


Harder to Hold

by jesus_buck



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Death, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Minor Injuries, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Swearing, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-09
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-04 13:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14593785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesus_buck/pseuds/jesus_buck
Summary: He’s the best pilot in the Resistance, with a penchant for doing things his way. You’re the clumsiest mechanic around, with a knack for machinery and a bad case of foot in mouth disease. Turns out, you both have some soft sides and sharp edges hidden beneath your reputations.





	1. Chapter 1

You sighed, wiping a bit of dirt and sweat off your nose, and tucked a few stray pieces of your hair back into place. It had been another typical, exhausting day. Even though it was well past the hour any sane mechanic would be up working, you were precariously hanging halfway into the body of an X-Wing, your coveralls almost black from the grease and grime of a day filled with repairs.

Willix was usually one of the more careful pilots, not pushing his ship to the ridiculous extremes others were known to do. But this last run must’ve turned into one hell of a fight… you’d never had to put in quite this much work on his ship before.

Below, your black and blue BB unit beeped at you to be careful.

“Come on Bruiser,” you called, “you know I know what I’m doing. And NO, I will not slip and fall on my ass again.”

BB-6C beeped back at you sassily.

“No kriffing way, there is not a 75% chance of that happening,” you snapped back. “Can you do me a favor and go see if Willix is still up? If I can get him to test this tonight, I’ll be able to work on those mods with Jess all day tomorrow.”

You heard the droid roll off, but not without a few choice beeps sent back your way.

Chuckling at Bruiser’s attitude, you kept trying to reach that elusive loose bolt. You shimmied into the opening a bit further, your legs the only part of your body visible outside of the X-Wing. If you could just stretch another inch, you could get the blasted thing tightened down and call it a night as soon as Willix got here.

With a last reach, you finally got your ratchet locked on to the bolt, and gave it a few good twists. Satisfied it wouldn’t be falling off any time soon, you gave a sigh of relief and began to wiggle out of the side of the ship.

Feet reaching for the wheeled ladder below, you were confused when you didn’t feel it. Dangling by your arms from the open panel, you frantically looked around you. And… there it was. 4 feet to your right. You must have inadvertently kicked it when you were trying to reach the bolt. With a huff, you surveyed your situation. As you hung there trying to come up with a creative way to get to the ladder, you felt your hands start to slip.

“No… no… SHIT!”

And with all the grace that could be expected from the clumsiest mechanic in the Resistance, you tumbled to the ground.

* * *

Your first thought on waking was that it was quiet. Too quiet. Your bunk was close enough to the hangar that at most hours there was a steady hum of activity that could be heard through the thin walls, but today there was just… nothing.

Slowly opening your eyes, you realized you were in the only place you seemed to spend more time in than the hangar: the medbay. Sitting up, you gingerly fingered the bandage on your head, wincing at how tender your right brow was underneath it.

Before you could attempt to stand, Willix came sauntering in with BB-6C hot on his heels. He greeted you with a hug and a lopsided grin. “Hey there, sleeping beauty! Have a fun night?”

“Shit, what happened last night, Wills?” you groaned, hands massaging your throbbing head. Although, with the “I told you so’s” Bruiser was singing at you, you could hazard a guess.

“Well, I was in the cantina with the rest of Blue Squadron when Bruiser came in and informed me that my ship caught on fire because of an electrical issue. So naturally, I assumed it was just being the drama queen it is and that you needed me to test a repair.”

“Sounds about right…” you muttered. Bruiser had a penchant for drama that would make him right at home in the Skywalker family (not that you would ever say that out loud). He was an older BB unit, and you had found it in a scrap pile headed for the incinerator. You pulled it out, fixed its faulty programming, and it had been your friend ever since. And although you suspected its little “attitude” was caused by an error in your reprogramming, you couldn’t bring yourself to change it. That flaw just made you love it more.

“Anyway,” Wills continued, “I got to the hangar, and you were lying on the floor. Unconscious. With a ratchet still in your hand. Which I’m guessing is what gave you that gash. Doc says it’s probably gonna be a nice new addition to your collection.”

You groaned. Just what you needed. More scars reminding you that your personal battle with gravity was always a losing one.

“Great,” you sighed, “as if I needed another one.”

“Hey, at least I don’t have to worry about some flyboy trying to pick up my favorite mechanic when her beautiful face is now grotesque,” he laughed.

“Wills”, you snorted, “even if I didn’t have this new beauty mark on my face, I’m pretty sure there isn’t a life form on this base who would look twice at me. And if they did, I’d either literally fall over or put my foot in my mouth”.

It was true. Attention apart from the usual “good mornings” and “how are yous” from pretty much anyone you didn’t know well made you extremely uncomfortable. Which usually manifested itself by you stuttering like a fool, or tripping over yourself. Wills and Jess were actually the only two on the base you were completely comfortable around. You’d been Wills’ mechanic for close to two years, and Jess’ for almost 6 months. Their steady, genuine interest in you outside of your gravity impairment and initially shy personality had allowed you to open up to them more than you had ever opened up to anyone outside of your family. Except maybe Bruiser.

As you and Wills continued your playful banter, the doctor on duty poked her head in the door. “Major Y/L/N? I just wanted to let you know that you’re free to go. Keep that bandage on, and change it before bed tonight. You should be good to take it off completely in the morning, as long as the bleeding has stopped.”

“Thanks doc.”

“Oh, and Y/N? Let’s try to make it at least two weeks before I see you in here again,” she added with a wink.

You smiled weakly at her and gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am”. You wouldn’t be surprised if the doctors and nurses had a running bet on how long it would be before your next medbay visit.

Standing up and slipping on your boots, you made your way to the door of the room. Just as you reached for the handle, your legs wobbled and Wills immediately jumped to steady you. Bruiser let out a stream of beeps.

You rolled your eyes at your droid. “No Bruiser, I definitely do NOT need a wheelchair. I appreciate the concern, though.”

“Are you sure you don’t at least want to hold onto my arm,Y/N?” Wills questioned. “You aren’t steady on your feet at the best of times, and you’re definitely a little more off balance than usual”.

“I. Am. FINE.” you huffed, jerking the door open and taking a few purposeful strides out into the corridor to show him just how ok you were.

Your plan didn’t exactly work, though, because two steps after passing through the door jamb you plowed right into a solid form, knocking both you and it to the ground.

You squealed as you fell, desperately trying to twist your body as to not land on whatever - or whoever - you just collided with. But of course, force be damned, you landed on top of it (them?) with a thud.

In the minute it took you and the poor soul you essentially tackled to the ground to catch your breath (their wheezing confirmed that it was, in fact, alive), you heard Wills’ distinctive chuckle and another familiar, melodic laugh that you hadn’t heard in weeks. Jess.

“Y/N,” she gasped between laughs, doubled over with hands on her knees, “am I ever going to come home to you not on the ground?”

“Hey Jess,” you groaned. “Just thought I’d try and get all my clumsiness out while I’m already in the medbay.”

“A sound plan. But maybe try not to beat the Commander up too much in the process? Someone decided to be a show off and got banged up pretty good trying to show off and barrel roll between two TIE fighters. I’m sure he doesn’t need a second concussion on top of the one he probably already has,” she teased.

As Jess went to help the mystery man up and Wills came to your rescue, you finally got a good look at the person you so unceremoniously barreled into and began to apologize. But your apology caught in your throat. Commander, you realized. Jess’ commander. Jess’ commander is _Poe fucking Dameron_.

Great. You had just tackled the Resistance’s poster boy, your best friend’s commander, and the man everyone assumed the General was grooming to take over for her someday. Your embarrassment adding to your already lackluster social skills, you blurted out a quick “Sorry, Commander!” before scampering away towards your bunk, prepared to mentally kick yourself for awkwardness for the rest of the day.

Wills shrugged at Jess, gave Poe a quick nod, and then jogged off after you to make sure you got to your bunk safely. Bruiser beeped a hello and goodbye to Jess, and took off after you as well.

As Jess made sure Poe was ok to stand on his own, she smiled and rolled her eyes at the confused look on his face. “You ok there, Poe?”

Snapping out of it, he shook his head and smiled. “Just wasn’t expecting to get so intimately acquainted with the medbay floor, y'know?” he quipped.

“Wow. Commander Dameron, best pilot in the Resistance. Doesn’t blink twice when he gets tossed around in his X-Wing pulling a stunt, but can’t handle getting knocked on his ass when he’s on the ground,” she teased.

Giving her a playful shove, Poe laughed. “Come on Jess, you know I’m just as smooth down on the ground as I am in the sky.”

She rolled her eyes at her commander once again.  “You just keep thinking that, and it may come true.”

“You wound me, Pava!” Poe gasped, clutching his chest in mock horror. The action caused him to suddenly wince in pain.

Jess furrowed her brow. “Maybe we should get you in a room to see the doc, yeah?”

“As much as I hate being ‘doctored’, I think you’re right. Pretty sure my head is bleeding again,” Poe agreed.

“Alright, let’s get a move on, Dameron. Just try not to get knocked over again.”

“No promises, Jess. By the way, who was that? Sounded like you two were pretty close… a secret lover, perhaps?” He winked cheekily at Jess, trying to get a rise out of her.

“You wish.” Jess snarked. “That’s my mechanic, Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”


	2. Chapter 2

Poe stared at Jess, furrowing his brow in mock confusion. “Your mechanic? I thought you preferred to do all your own maintenance? In fact, I distinctly remember you complaining that there was no one besides yourself that you could trust to, how was it you put it… ‘understand the complex mechanics and delicate genius’ behind you mod ideas?” **  
**

Jess rolled her eyes at Poe. “ You should really stop taking things out of context, Dameron. She’s Wills’ mechanic, and she is kriffing amazing. Met her about 6 months ago when I couldn’t figure out how to get that extra boost to work without a significant lag, and she came over and fixed it in an hour. I swear, it was brilliant. It’s like she can hear the machines telling her what they need. And just you wait,” she continued with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “we have a list of mods we’re working on to help me replace you as the best pilot in the Resistance!”

As she passed him off to the nurse, Poe gave her a kind smile. “Jess, we both know you’re just as good as me, with or without those fancy mods.”

“Whatever you say, Commander.”

Stumbling down the hall, you finally reached your bunk. By some miracle, you made it there without taking another tumble. Thumbing your keycode, you rushed in and quickly shut the door behind you. Crossing the small space, you let out a groan and flop into the hammock you had strung up in the corner.

Maker, why did you have to be so awkward? Just being around new people was bad enough, but you could usually force out the pleasantries and make small talk. Enough so that people didn’t think you were completely socially inept. There were some people, though, that just made you more flustered than usual. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to who they were and why they did, but apparently Commander Poe Dameron was one of them.

One look. One look of those soft brown eyes full of concern was all it took, and you were tripping over your words like an imbecile.  _Well_ , you thought to yourself,  _at least I won’t have to see too much of him_. You’d been with the Resistance for three years, and that had been your first run-in with the man. So, by your reckoning, you had another three day years before having to deal with him again face to face. Maybe by then you’d be able to form a complete sentence.

The sound of your door opening pulled you out of your musings. Bruiser rolled in, giving you a quick series of affectionate beeps before rolling to its charging dock to power down for a bit. “Love you too, bud,” you respond.

Wills, slipping into your bunk right behind Bruiser, smiles to himself. “Y/N, the relationship you have with that droid is borderline unhealthy. I think you love it more than you love me!”

You’re unsurprised at his appearance… he knows how to get into your bunk, and even if he didn’t, Bruiser would have let him in. “Aw Wills, you know I love you! In fact, you’re number… 4 on the list of people I love most. Right behind Cay, from the mess hall? She makes the BEST food,” you tease him affectionately.

Wills laughs along with you, but suddenly his smile falls and he turns serious. “Speaking of people you love… it’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”

You sigh, and your head falls. You’d been trying to forget. “Yeah. It is.”

“Do you need me to do anything? I have a briefing and a pilot’s meeting but I can see if I can get them moved. And maybe Jess could clear her schedule too, we could all go off world? Find a local festival somewhere, or something?”

You give him a small, sad smile. You know what he’s trying to do. He tried last year, and the year before. But the crushing sadness tomorrow  brought each year wasn’t going away any time soon, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to spend it with anyone. 

* * *

 

It was the day you watched your whole heart leave in his X-Wing on a routine reconnaissance run to some small planet, promising to be back in time for your date that evening. The one he promised would be the best date you’d ever been on.

Later that afternoon, you had listened in the Comms Center as Cade’s squadron was attacked by the First Order from the surface and the air. 

As he stayed behind to try to give the rest of his team a chance get away safely. 

As his blasters jammed and his hyperdrive failed, when he realized he was a sitting duck. 

As he was mercilessly shot out of the sky, choking out apologies and telling you he loved you. Screaming as his ship crashed to the surface of that godforsaken planet and burned.

And you, collapsing on the floor. Screaming with him until your voice was as far gone as he was.

* * *

 

You spoke softly, but forcefully. “Look, Wills, I really appreciate it, but-”

“You’re gonna say no again, aren’t you? Y/N, I’m sorry, but after the past two years, I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go off on your own again.” he said, exasperation evident in his voice.

“Wills, I’m a grown ass woman. I can take care of myself.” you spat.

“Yeah, because you coming back at 4am drunk off your ass with a broken arm is taking care of yourself!” he yelled. You shrunk back. Wills rarely raised his voice, unless he was well and truly frustrated.

That “incident” last year was something you’d never live down. You hadn’t been drunk,  but had tripped over a rock on your way back to base and broke your arm. It wasn’t a serious fracture, but Wills and Jess about lost their minds over it.

“Y/N, look,” he began in a softer tone, following you as you jumped out of the hammock and trudged towards your desk. “I just worry. Jess does too. And so does the rest of the mechanical team. We all have different ways of dealing with grief… But, as a friend, I’m telling you that you need to re-evaluate yours. Drinking a whole bottle of Corellian Whiskey in one night and wandering around the woods by yourself isn’t the way to go.”

You know he’s right, but you just can’t bring yourself to admit it. Most days you were fine. You could bury the pain down deep, forget it existed and just think of the happy memories. 

Of the small smiles filled with more love than words could say and the quick kisses stolen after missions. 

Of the long walks in the forest around the base and days off spent curled up in bed, tangled in sheets and skin.

Of the simple engagement ring that you had found hidden in a beautiful wood box when cleaning out his room 2 weeks after he was gone, now hanging on a simple leather strap around your neck. What that future would have held for you, even though those thoughts sometimes brought the pain a little too close to the surface.

But, the only way you could count on completely numbing the overwhelming grief on the anniversary of Cade’s death was to wander off on your own into the woods you used to walk with him, and drink ‘til you couldn’t feel anything. You’d stumble back to the base in the early hours the next day, and then work until you passed out that night. You knew sleep wouldn’t come unless your body was desperate.

Shaking your head and fighting back tears, you turn to face Wills. “I just don’t know what else to do, Wills,” you murmur. “I’m not ready to share that day with anyone else yet… it feels like I’d be leaving the last of when it was just me and Cade behind. I can’t be around anyone else.”

Wills reached out and pulled you into a tight embrace, tucking you under his chin, and murmuring into your hair. “Look, Y/N, I’m not saying you have to go anywhere with anyone. But maybe cut back on the whiskey? And tell someone where exactly it is you go out there, so we at least know where to look if you’re gone too long.”

You sighed, knowing this wasn’t a battle you were going to win. A worried Wills was a stubborn Wills. “FINE,” you groaned, annoyed at how the situation had turned out. “I’ll leave directions on how to find me. But, you DO NOT read them or come looking for me unless I’m not back by 5am the next morning. Deal?”

Wills frowned. It was less than ideal, but he knew that it was all he was going to get. “Alright. But I’m not letting you leave tomorrow unless I have them.”

You nodded your assent. “I’ll send them to you after Jess and I finish our work today.”

Wills decided to push his luck. “Any chance I can convince you to cut back on the whiskey too?”

You snorted. “Not a damn chance.”


	3. Chapter 3

After a quick lunch with Wills, you changed back into your coveralls and meandered over to Jess’ X-Wing in the hangar. She was already hard at work, and you felt a little guilty for taking so long to get there. You were her mechanic for chrissakes, you should be the one doing all the heavy work. ****

You mentally kicked yourself for the guilt, knowing she didn’t care if you were late. Jess was a kind soul at heart. When she saw you, she dropped what she was doing and met you halfway across the hangar to wrap you in a bone crushing hug.

“Hey sweets, how’re you doing?” she inquired.

“A solid 6/10, Jess,” you gasped out. “Would be an 8 if I could breathe.”

Laughing, she released you. “I just wanted to make sure you were feeling the love today. I… um… I talked to Wills. He told me about your conversation.”

You had figured as much. Jess and Wills had a tendency to worry about you, not that you could blame them. At this point you just assumed that they both just had a “Y/N debrief” every day or two.

“Oh,” you responded meekly. Not really wanting to talk about it, you took a few steps away from her, towards her X-Wing. You had this ridiculous, ingrained need to put others first and make sure they were taken care of, even if it meant burying anything you were struggling with down deep. Pilots in particular had enough stress as it was… and you couldn’t bring yourself to ever dump your deepest, darkest thoughts on Jess and Wills, even if they were more than willing to listen.

Shaking those thoughts out of your head, you turned back to Jess with a bright (and only half fake) smile.  “I’m definitely looking forward to working on these mods! What’ve you got in mind for today?” You were genuinely excited. Getting a little creative with ships wasn’t something you got to do often, so when you and Jess had “Mod Days” (as you had dubbed them), it ended up being a blast. Nothing cleared your head quiet like trying to solve a complex mechanical problem.

“Actually, Y/N, I was thinking we could wait on the mods?” she ventured hesitantly. “After what happened last night, I really think it might just be best if you rest up in your bunk.”

You knew that even though she didn’t say it, she was hoping the alone time would make you change your mind about plans for tomorrow. But you’d made enough concessions in that department for one year, and your stubbornness reared its head.

You furrowed your brow, rubbing the bridge of your nose in exasperation. “Jess, please don’t. You know how much I love doing this work. Please just let me have this today, so I can maybe get some sleep tonight.”

Breaking out in an obviously fake flirty smile, you continue. “Besides, we haven’t gotten to hang out just the two of us in a long while. I miss chatting with you, babe… I mean, Wills is great, but he doesn’t exactly appreciate my smart-assery the way you do.” You bat your lashes at her, making the most ridiculous pouty face you could muster.

Laughing, she slung an arm around your shoulder and you walk towards her ship. “Ok, ok, you win! But only because I find your awkward charm endearing!”

* * *

The rest of the day passed too quickly for your liking. Shockingly, you had only fallen down once. But that hose had NOT been on the ladder when you climbed up… so was it really your fault your foot got tangled in it on the way down?

By midnight, you had said goodnight to Jess, taken a quick rinse in the communal refreshers, drug yourself back to your bunk, and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

You woke the next morning to Bruiser whirring softly next to you. It was rare for it to be so gentle in waking you up, but you assumed it figured a harsh wake up call would be too much today.

You gave it a small smile, whispering “Thanks, B.”

As you sat up, you felt the sadness begin to press down on you. You slowly reached for your torn brown trousers and an old cream colored shirt, not particularly caring what you looked like today. You were drinking alone in the woods, so what was the point in making an effort?

Pinning your hair back and throwing on your boots, you asked Bruiser what it had planned for the day. You always felt bad leaving it behind, but knew it on some level understood what you were going through.

“Hanging out with some other droids in the repair bay? Sounds like a good day bud” You gave him a weak smile. Why you felt the need to convince it you were ok was beyond you, but you really did want it to be happy and not worry about you.

Grabbing your pack, you threw in some water, ration bars, a blanket, a small blaster (just in case), and a nice bottle of Corellian whiskey - completely full. Bruiser whistled it’s disappointment, but you just ignored it.  Slinging the pack over your shoulder, you opened your door and turned to Bruiser. “Meet me in the hangar at 5am tomorrow? I’m going to do some maintenance checks on Wills’ and Jess’ ships and could use help with diagnostics.”

A quick affirmative beep, an affectionate whir, and it took off down the corridor.

Sighing, you turned and walked through the hangar out to the landing pad, beginning your trek into the forest.

* * *

The lake was still as perfect and pristine as the day you and Cade had first come here. You were surprised that no one else on the base had discovered it yet, although it made sense. Not many people here had the time (or desire) to walk for an hour and a half, no matter how beautiful the end location was.

The water was calm today, only rippling with the slight breeze that occasionally whispered through the trees. The forest came right up to most of the lake’s edge, but there was a small grassy hill rolling down into one side of the it, dotted with only a few trees and some boulders.

You took a deep breath, partly to absorb the pure, perfect scent of the woods and the lake, and partly to steel yourself for the emotional train wreck you were about to become.

Slowly making your way down the hill, you plopped down in the shade of the largest tree. It had to be hundreds of years old… you and Cade had often wondered exactly how old it was, and if anything about this place had changed since it was a sapling.

Sliding down with your back against the tree, you opened your pack and quickly ate a ration bar. Cracking open the bottle of whiskey, you raised it in a halfhearted toast towards the lake. “Here’s to you, baby,” you muttered.

Taking a healthy swing of the amber liquid and relishing the way it burned your throat on the way down, you lowered the bottle and let your head fall back to rest against the trunk. And as soon as it hit the tree, the pain became too much. You let the dam break, and quietly cried for what you had lost.


	4. Chapter 4

Poe ran his fingers through his hair, exhaling slowly. He lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. He’d been tossing and turning for the past couple hours… Most nights he slept soundly, but tonight sleep evaded him. **  
**

Turning to check the time, he groaned and dragged his hand down the side of his face. It was just past midnight, and Leia had asked him to give a quick training session to a group of recruits at 6am. As much as he wanted to rest so he would at least be slightly coherent when speaking to them, Poe had a sneaking suspicion that sleep just wasn’t happening tonight.

Resigning himself to a sleepless night, he swung his legs over the side of his bed and quietly tugged his boots on. With a quick glance to be sure his movements hadn’t disturbed BB-8, he stood up and grabbed his jacket off the desk chair.

As he moved to open the door, a sleepy, inquisitive beep sounded from behind him.

Smiling softly, he turned around and crept over to BB’s charging dock. “Hey buddy. Sorry to wake you. I just couldn’t sleep. Going to go for a walk.”

BB-8 looked up at Poe, and emitted a string of concerned beeps.

Poe shook his head. “No, but thanks for offering. I just want to be alone with my thoughts for a bit.”

The droid whirred his understanding, and with a tender “G’night, buddy,” Poe shrugged on his jacket and slipped out the door.

At first, he wasn’t sure where his feet were taking him. He meandered through the hangar and out to the tarmac with his head down and shoulders slumped, not even bothering to pause and stare up at the stars like he normally did. The stars were part of the problem tonight.

Before he knew it, he was a good ways down the path to the lake. He snorted and rolled his eyes when he realized where he was headed. Poe was not a fan of bodies of water larger than a puddle. But, there was no denying being near it could be relaxing, and relaxing was what he needed tonight.

He often found himself going to the hidden lake an hour’s walk from the base when he needed to clear his head. He was amazed no one else seemed to go there, but figured it was because no one ever went looking. Hell, he had stumbled upon it by accident on a sleepless night like this one.

Lost in thought, the hour spent walking passed quickly for Poe. It only seemed like a few minutes had passed when he reached the top of the grassy hill looking down at lake.

As he began to head down the slope to his favorite tree, he stopped short. Listening. Looking. He thought he had heard… crying? He didn’t see anyone though, and the sound didn’t repeat. Assuming it must have been some strange bird call, he resumed his walk. “Gotta relax, Dameron,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “People find out you’re hearing things, next thing you know you’re grounded pending a psych eval.”

A few seconds later, he heard it again. A quiet, but  _definitely-not-a-bird_ , sob. And it was coming from the base of a tree at the bottom of the hill.

Poe’s own demons were quickly shoved to the back of his mind by his concern for whoever was down there. He quickly moved towards the source. He always felt the need to endure his sufferings alone, but he’d be damned if he let anyone else do it.

* * *

You sat staring blankly at the lake, knees tucked up under your chin, ¾ empty bottle of whiskey dangling in your hands. A quick glance at your datapad a few minutes ago had revealed it was 1:30am… much earlier than you thought.

Something about this year was different, and you couldn’t quite figure out what. Normally, by this time you were still crying heavily, your body shaking with emotion. There would only be a couple small sips of whiskey left, and you’d be kicking yourself for not bringing a second bottle.

But now, even though your heart still ached and begged you to give voice to your pain,  you couldn’t manage more than an occasional hiccuping sob. Your soul wanted to keep going, insisted that you did, but your body refused.

With a sigh, you raised the bottle to your lips to take a sip. Despite what you had said to Wills, you were trying to cut back a little on the booze this year. You’d never say it out loud, but you did feel horrible about the scare you gave him and Jess last year after the broken arm incident.

Lowering the bottle from your lips, you capped it and set it in your open pack. Maybe your body just had no more water to spare for tears. Grabbing a water bottle, you took a deep drink.

“Hey, are you alright?” a voice behind you inquired.

You inhaled sharply, forgetting that your mouth was full of water. Sputtering and coughing, you tried to scramble as far away from the voice as you could, which ended up with you tumbling down the hill to the edge water. Who the FUCK was that? Where the FUCK had they come from?

“Shit! Shit, I’m sorry,” the voice exclaimed, their concern evident. You heard footsteps rush over, stopping right in front of you. “Are you ok? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

Gasping, you calmed yourself enough to grab the hand that had been dropped into your field of vision. At least whoever it was was decent enough to help a damsel in distress to her feet.

“Y’know, probably not the best idea to sneak up on someone in the middle of the night around here. We are in a war, you know. Coulda blasted your poor face away…” you muttered as you stood.

But your voice died in your throat as you heard a deep chuckle and saw man it came from. Tousled dark curls, brown eyes full of genuine worry, and a lopsided smile that could melt beskar.

_Poe fucking Dameron._

Your eyes widened, cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. With a squeak, you jerked your hand from his and scampered back to the tree. It was definitely time for more whiskey.

* * *

_Fuck, fuck, fuck_  was your inner monologue as you quickly made your way back to the tree. Was every meeting with this man going to be an never-ending parade of embarrassment?

As you grabbed the whiskey from you pack, you heard him clear his throat behind you. Stars, that man moved quietly.

“Permission to approach?” he inquired, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Taking a deep breath you steeled yourself, taking some comfort in knowing that if you said anything too awkward you could pass it off later as you being a little tipsy.

You turned around to face him, caught slightly off guard by the kindness in his eyes. “S-Sorry about that,” you stammered. “I - I just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be here… I didn’t know anyone else knew about this place.”

“What? Don’t be sorry. I didn’t think anyone else knew about it either. It was my fault for sneaking up on you,” he said with a smile.

You chuckled nervously. “Heh, guess we were both wrong.” You looked around the lake, the trees,  _anything_ but him, and fidgeted with the bottle in your hands. Desperately thinking of a way to avoid the impending awkward silence.

Thankfully, he saved you the trouble. Kind of. “Oh! I recognize you!” he exclaimed excitedly. “You’re Jess’ mechanic, right? Y/N Y/L/N? We ran into each other in the medbay a few days ago. I’m Poe, Poe Dameron.”

You groan and cover your face with your free hand. “I was kinda hoping you were out of it enough to forget that. That was probably the worst impression I could have made on my friend’s Commander.”

He laughs -  _laughs_  - and shakes his head, messy curls bouncing in the moonlight.  “I could think of worse. Although you shouldn’t have taken off like that… I wanted to be sure you were ok, but you disappeared.”

_Maker_ , you thought,  _this has to all be an act. No way a big shot flyboy is actually this concerned about anyone who isn’t part of his squadron._  You knew pilots, and the ones who were good tended to be assholes with over-inflated egos. Cade, Jess, and Wills had been the only exceptions you’d ever encountered. 

You look down at the ground. “I think I’m the one who should have made sure you were ok…” you mumble. “I was the one who ran into you. I’m really sorry about that… I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

Poe reaches out and touches your shoulder. “Hey,” he says gently. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve taken worse hits.”

Looking back up at him, you manage a small smile. “Well, thanks for not holding me responsible for that hit and run, Commander Dameron. I don’t want to keep you from your midnight wanderings, though.”

You turn and take the last few steps back to your tree, and sigh as you plop down back in your spot. Taking another sip, you quirk your brow when you see him still standing a few feet from you.

He shuffles his feet, almost imperceptibly. “It’s just Poe, Y/N. And actually, I came down here because I heard something. Was just gonna keep walking but… I mean, if you want company I’m happy to sit with you. We don’t have to talk or anything. But no one here should have to be alone if they don’t want to be.”

“Says the man who was walking in the woods alone in the middle of the night,” you shoot back sarcastically.

“Guilty as charged. But I’d rather have company tonight, if that’s ok with you?”

Realizing you were too emotionally drained to fight on this, you nod your head. He drops down next to you, leaning back on his hands. He eyes your mostly depleted bottle.

“Are… are you drunk? Did you drink all that?” He asks with a tone of disbelief. You snorted.

“Not a chance. I’ve been drinking this for a while.” He didn’t need to know that “a while” just meant the past 20 hours.

It took a pretty impressive amount of alcohol to push you past tipsy into the realm of full on drunkenness, and ¾ of a bottle over the better part of the day wasn’t going to do it.

He nods, letting the subject drop. You silently offer him the bottle, and he gives you a questioning look.

“People don’t come to a secluded lake in the middle of the night unless they’re meeting a secret lover, or something’s deeply upsetting them. Since it’s pretty obvious we don’t fall into the former category, figured you could use some.”

Poe shrugs. “Touché.” He takes the bottle, downs a healthy swig, wincing a little as it burns.

“Damn, you drink the good stuff,” he murmurs, handing the bottle back to you.

You hum your agreement as you cap the bottle, setting it between you as you continue to stare blankly out at the lake.

You’re not sure how to feel about having someone here with you that isn’t Cade… is this betraying him? Sitting in what he and you had come to consider “your spot” with someone else, even if you didn’t invite them there? Would he be hurt, disappointed? And stars,  _why_  did you feel so comfortable sitting here in silence with someone you barely knew?

As your mind ran a mile a minute, tears began to slip out. Remembering you had an audience, you sniffed quietly and tried to discreetly wipe them away.

But Poe sees. A flash of concern darts across his face, unnoticed by you as you try to pull yourself together. He studies your face, seeing the depth of the sadness written there. And out of nowhere, he’s hit with the thought that what he’s seeing is simply too much. Too much pain for one person to handle.

* * *

He had asked Jess about you yesterday as he was being stitched up. He knew he had seen you in the hangar before, usually with a smile plastered on your face, covered in grease and grime, but that was about it.

A fond expression lit up Jess’ face as she distracted him with stories about something witty you said, something silly you did, some incredible repair you helped her with, something you tripped over. From what she said and what he had observed, you were an adorably clumsy ray of sunshine who cared deeply for the happiness of others. Sadness was never mentioned, never even hinted at. But there it was, etched deeply across your face.

In that moment, Poe’s heart breaks for you. And he  _has_  to know. He has to know what could cut you down to the core like this, what could erase every bit of the joyful person he’d been told about. Because if someone like you could be this sad, was there any hope for someone like him to ever be truly happy?

Softly, he speaks. Hoping you’ll open up to him, even though you have no reason to. Hoping the moonlight and the whiskey and the forest will take pity on him and work their magic. Because even if he doesn’t really know you, he understands you’re not the kind of person who bares their soul to others easily. You wouldn’t be here alone if you were.

“What’s got you out here alone tonight?”

You continue to stare across the lake, giving no sign you heard him. No sign of the battle those words had sparked inside you. He had no right to know your story, but something deep inside you was screaming for you to tell him. Urging you to believe that he’d understand, maybe more than anyone else could.

_No_. You couldn’t… could you? Telling him everything was out of the question. But the little voice inside you whispered for you to tell him a small part. That maybe it would make you feel better. That maybe being alone wasn’t the way.

Just when he had given up hope of an answer, mentally kicking for crossing the line and making you uncomfortable, you exhaled slowly and spoke.

“I lost someone,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper, refusing to make eye contact with him as you speak. You instinctively bring your hand to your chest, fingering the ring hanging from your neck through the fabric of your shirt.

He doesn’t say anything right away, but you can feel his gaze on the side of your head.

When he does speak, it’s in an impossibly small voice, heavy with grief and defeat. “Me too. I’ve lost  _so_ many people, Y/N.”

And now that he’s started, he finds he can’t stop. Doesn’t want to stop. And his deepest, darkest secret, the one he buries down deep in his heart where sometimes even he can’t find it, comes tumbling out.

“I can’t sleep some nights because of it. I see their faces, hear their voices. And… and I’m starting to believe that all this isn’t worth it.”

You’re stunned. The poster boy of the Resistance can’t have doubts, can he?

Moving with speed you didn’t know you had, you whip around to face him. You fix your gaze on him, his soft brown eyes now full of embarrassment and pain. Yours blazed with a passion you didn’t know you still possessed as you spoke forcefully.

“It has to be, Poe. It HAS to be worth it. If it isn’t, then they died for nothing.” You pull away, startled by your outburst. Scooting back, you mumble softer, “And if he died for nothing, then I couldn’t live with myself.”

Poe sat frozen, taken aback by your conviction, by the fiery passion that had consumed you for a brief moment. He knew he felt that way once, too, but it seemed to be something he experienced less and less these days. It was still there, but a small torch compared to the raging fire it used to be.

“S-Sorry,” you stammer. “I… I get a little intense sometimes…” you fiddle with a blade of grass, trying to hide your embarrassment and the flood of emotions you were just hit with.

“No, um, that’s ok,” he says with awe in his voice. “I just haven’t… I just… I wish I felt as strongly as you do about it right now.” He chuckles darkly. “I mean, I’m the one a lot of people here look to. I’m the one supposed to be  _so sure_  of this fight. And there you are, unwavering, and I’m the one sitting here doubting everything for the hundredth time.” He sighs in exasperation, running his hands through his hair, and flops down to lay on his back.

In that moment, your heart breaks for this man you barely know. He’s tapped for more missions than any other pilot, and takes on the dangerous ones the General won’t assign, instead letting those willing to risk it all volunteer. He’s the one people look to to be strong, be their guiding light, the epitome of what a Resistance fighter should be. And he’s holding the world on his shoulders for them, not daring to let anyone see the cracks forming deep within.

Yet, he’s trusting you. A lowly mechanic he doesn’t know, but has deemed worthy of keeping his secret.

Laying down next to him, you take a deep breath. Choosing your next words carefully. “I’m not unwavering, Poe. I have moments of doubt. Everyone here probably does. But the belief always comes back, and I think that’s the important part.”

You pause, blinking up at the stars. “You just have to find something you can anchor yourself with in those moments. At least that’s what I have to do. And it usually brings me back.”

He hums his acknowledgment, and you don’t press further. Sitting back up, you take another drag of whiskey.

You stare across the lake, and your thoughts drift back to Cade. Your anchor when he was alive. Still your anchor now, though in a different way. The tears start again, and this time you don’t care if Poe sees them.

He sits up slowly, gently takes the bottle from your hand and catches your eye. Inquiring without words if he’s allowed to finish it. When you nod, he swallows the last of it. Tosses the bottle in your pack, and turns to face you. In the moonlight, you can barely see the tears threatening to spill from his own eyes.

He tentatively reaches out, grabs your hand, and squeezes it. In that moment, you know this night won’t be brought up by either of you again. It’s like a bubble in time, destined to be remembered but not spoken of. So you let your tears continue to fall, and with a reciprocating squeeze slowly withdraw your hand from his.

You expect him to get up and leave, but he doesn’t. A small part of you is relieved. You had forgotten how nice a comfortable silence, free of any conversational expectations, could be.


	5. Chapter 5

You’re not sure how long you and Poe just sat there, but when your alarm goes off to let you know it’s time to head back to base you’d swear it had only been an hour since he showed up. **  
**

The beeping startles him, and you have to suppress a small smile as he jumps a bit, confusion all over his face.

“Sorry about that,” you murmur as you quickly silence the alarm on your datapad. Something about being in this place with him makes it feel as though anything louder than a whisper is unwelcome. “I need to start heading back to base… I have friends who will worry if I’m gone any longer than I already have been.”

He smiles, and tilts his head. “Jess?”

“Hmm, yep,” you confirm as you busy yourself with putting your things back in your pack. Grabbing two ration bars, you offer him one as you sling the bag over your shoulder. “Breakfast?”

“Couldn’t’ve packed anything better?” He teases as he stands up and takes one.

You blush lightly, praying he doesn’t see it, and try to cover it up with a sarcastic remark. “Well, if I’d’ve know I was gonna have company—a Commander no less—I would have packed some full ration kits.”

He laughs, and you  _hate_  how it makes your heart flutter just a little bit. Forcing yourself to ignore it, you turn on your heel and purposefully start towards the path at the top of the hill. Your mind runs a mile a minute the whole way, trying to process your time with Poe. 

It’s a miracle you make it to the woods without an issue, but it doesn’t last. Three steps into the forest and you’re falling forward, foot caught in a tree root.

“KRIFFING HELL!” You shout, respectful silence completely abandoned. There goes your streak of not embarrassing yourself in front of Poe. It was a good run while it lasted… all 3.5 hours of it.

Poe wasn’t far behind, and rushed towards you. “Shit! Are you ok?” he inquires as he kneels down next to you, gently freeing your foot from the offending root.

“‘M fine.” You grumble. You push yourself up off the ground, favoring your left foot and brushing dirt from your pants and palms. Poe hovers next to you, concern etched on his face. He’s holding your arm, and instructs you to try and put weight on it. “Tell me if it hurts. I don’t think it’s broken, but you might have a sprain.” 

“So what if I do?” you huff, a grimace on your face. “Still gotta get back to base, and walking’s the only way to do that.”

“The hell it is. If it’s sprained, you’re getting a piggyback ride straight to the medbay. I’m not letting you hurt it even more by trying to walk”, he asserts firmly, still gently holding your arm as you test it, ready to catch you if you fall.

You duck your head, blushing furiously at his suggestion. No WAY were you walking—riding?—back into base on  _Poe fucking Dameron’s_  back, sprained ankle or not.

As you slowly shift your weight, you breathe a sigh of relief as your ankle holds without so much as a twinge of pain. Your hands had taken the brunt of the fall, and you’d definitely feel it in your wrists tomorrow, but it could have been worse.

“No pain. I think I’m ok.” You give him a weak thumbs up, and remove your arm from his hold.

Poe eyes you suspiciously. “Ok… but if it starts to hurt you tell me immediately, and I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

“Fine, Nurse Dameron,” you sigh with a roll of your eyes.

Poe snorts, and motions for you to go ahead of him. He stays close as you walk—a little too close for comfort, if you were being honest—watching you and ready to catch you if you so much as wobble.

Just like the last of your time by the lake, the hike passed in silence and before you knew it you were at the edge of the tarmac. 5am on the dot.

Scanning the area for for Jess and Wills, you spy them over by Wills’ ship. With a wave of your arms, you catch their attention so they know you’re back. They wave to you and turn back to their conversation, not seeming to notice who you were with.

Behind you, Poe stops just before his feet hit the pavement and hesitantly clears his throat. You stop and turn to face him, but what you see when you turn around catches you by surprise.

He’s shuffling his feet again, toeing a rock, looking everywhere but at you. “Look… Y/N…” he begins, uncertainty in his voice. He pauses, sighs. Suddenly, something shifts, and his eyes snap up to yours. “Y/N, I know you said you lost someone. I don’t know who, and why it had you out there all alone with an  _impressively_  empty bottle of whiskey. And… and I know we don’t really know each other, but…” he pauses once more, takes a deep breath while rubbing his temple and looking down at the ground. When he opens his mouth to finish his thought, his eyes lock back onto yours. “What I’m trying to say is that if you ever need someone to talk to or… or just sit in silence with, let me know. No one has to be alone here.”

You smile at him softly. Hell, you’d been smiling at him since you turned around. This stammering, uncertain Poe was different from the confident, smooth talking flyboy you’d heard about. It was sweet and endearing. It made him seem more… real.Truth be told, you liked this one better. With a surge of confidence from maker knows where, you gently place your hand on his arm. “Just remember, Poe, you don’t have to face anything alone either.”

With a small squeeze, you drop your arm and begin your walk towards the hangar. When you’re a few yards away, you get the feeling you’re being watched. Thinking it’s Bruiser sneaking up behind you, you turn back to lovingly scold him for trying to scare you. To your surprise, he’s not there. Odd. 

As you move to turn back around, your gaze flicks to the forest and you see Poe still standing there, staring after you. You give him a small wave, snapping him out of his thoughts and back to reality. He smiles softly, waves back, and starts to jog towards the bunks.

* * *

Unbeknownst to you, Jess saw the whole of your interaction with Poe. And boy, did she have questions.

Those questions promptly became the bane of your existence as you settled in at your workstation, getting ready to repair a few parts for a fellow mechanic. Usually you worked exclusively on Jess and Wills’ ships, maker knows they kept you busy enough. But you were always happy to help anyone who asked, especially if you needed to drown yourself in work.

As soon as you had bent over the disassembled trigger mechanism on your workbench, you felt a bump at your feet and a hug envelop you from behind.

“Hey Bruiser,” you cooed, reaching down to pat the droid’s head and blowing it a kiss, ignoring the hug for now. “How was your day yesterday, bud?” It chirped back happily, chattering away about all the droid gossip it had caught up on. “Woah there B, slow down before you fry a circuit,” you titter. “Can we catch up on all the gossip later?” you ask kindly. Bruiser glances at Jess, spits out something along the lines of “I blame you, friend” at her, and gives you an affectionate nudge before rolling over to Wills’ droid.

Jess breaks her hold on you, and drags another stool over to sit beside you. “Y/N, I know you love Bruiser, flaws and all, but can’t you do something about that mouth it has?” She quips. Jess didn’t quite understand your need to keep its “personality” intact.  

“You better hope it didn’t hear you say that, or he’ll be heckling you for a week, Jess,” you mutter, engrossed in your work, knowing she was joking.

“Well honey, I’m going to be heckling you for a week if you don’t tell me what you were doing with Commander Dameron over there by the woods.”

You freeze, hands hovering over the trigger mechanism. No.  _No._  She couldn’t have seen that. She was talking to Wills the whole time. Wasn’t she?

You glance over at her, seeing the mischievous smirk on her face. The first thought that comes to mind is to lie. To your best friend.  _Great idea, Y/N,_ you thought.

What startles you most is that your reason for lying isn’t to hide that you weren’t alone this morning. You couldn’t care less about that right now, even if you knew it would hurt Jess if she found out. No, your reason for lying was to protect someone you barely knew, and the secret he entrusted you with. Stars, this was a mess.

Steadying yourself, you shrug nonchalantly. “Oh, I just ran into him as I was coming back in. He was heading back to the bunks, but wanted to, uh, to check and see if I was ok after that lovely incident in the medbay the other day.”

You bite the inside of your lip, praying she buys the lie. It wasn’t  _really_  a lie, right? Just a restructuring of the truth. You go with that, hoping it calms the guilt in the pit of your stomach.

“Uh huh,” she looks at you skeptically, “and why did you, Miss ‘Physical-contact-with- strangers-makes-me-extremely-nervous’, grab his arm?”

_Shit_. “He, uh, he moved in like he was going to give me a hug. I panicked, grabbed his arm so he couldn’t.” Did that sound convincing? You prayed it did.

After a few seconds of scrutiny, a relaxed smile formed on Jess’ lips. “Girl, you gotta let that guard down. Especially with how much you fall over… you could use a literal support system.”

You internally sigh in relief. Thank the Maker, she believed you.

She stands up, grabbing the stool and sliding it back over to where she found it. “Well, I’ll get out of your hair, let you keep working. Meet you for lunch?”

You give a hum of agreement, already having turned your attention back to the parts on your bench. Focusing on the task at hand, and willing your heartbeat that was currently spiraling out of control to calm down.

But before she slips away, she puts her hand on your shoulder. And you can clearly hear the mirth lacing her voice as she says, “But next time, don’t stop him. Poe gives the best hugs.” You freeze once again as she spins around and bounces away.

_What the hell was that supposed to mean?_


	6. Chapter 6

Poe lay face down on his bed, trying to will his body to move. After he had spaced out while staring after Y/N (and felt  _thoroughly_  embarrassed about her seeing him), he had jogged back here, rinsed off in the ‘fresher, thrown on a mostly clean flight suit, and sprinted back to the hangar for the training session. That stupid session had been the slowest two hours of his life, by far. He had been tired, and distracted, and was pretty sure that no one had actually paid attention to anything he had said. **  
**

Now that he finally had some time to himself, the physical and emotional exhaustion of last night was hitting him hard. Apparently, the cutoff age for pulling an all-nighter with no repercussions was one he had passed long ago. What he wouldn’t give for a nap, some caf, or both.

Actually, both sounded pretty good. He reached over to set an alarm on his datapad, so he’d be sure he’d wake with enough time to grab some caf before starting in on maintenance with BB-8 for the rest of the day. As he began to drift off, his thoughts returned to Y/N. To the heavy sadness in her eyes, and how it was quickly replaced by burning conviction. How she hadn’t ridiculed him for his doubt, the compassion in her voice when they had parted ways that morning.  _Yeah_ , he thought with a gentle smile, _she’s…_

Poe woke with a start, alarm blaring in his ear, and somehow feeling even groggier than before he fell asleep. Groaning, he rolled off the bed, ran his hands through his hair, and walked out the door with two things on his mind: find BB-8, and find a  _lot_  of caf.

* * *

Jess sat in the mess hall, picking at what she guessed was some sort of porridge and nursing a cup of black caf. She hadn’t slept well the night before… she never did when Y/N was out there drinking her grief into oblivion. 

Taking another sip, she turned to the papers on the table next to her, trying to focus. Maintenance request forms needed to be turned in (even though Y/N had already fixed the issues). Her mission report from the last week’s recon needed to be finished and submitted. 

But this morning, Y/N had come back to base significantly less drunk than in years past. And in a slightly, but noticeably, better mood. Normally Jess would have been glad, but something about that interaction she saw Y/N have with Poe was bugging her. She believed what Y/N had told her, but still… it wasn’t adding up. No matter how much she tried to concentrate on her work, she couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Jess shook her head, trying to snap herself out of it. She was just reading into it too much, that was it. Too worried about Y/N, about what had caused the change in her behavior, even if it was for the best. But she couldn’t help it. At this point, Y/N was more family than friend. 

From the moment Y/N had begun to open up to her six months ago, Jess was hooked. She couldn’t figure out how a person so kind and sweet ever got into this fight.  And then, as the stubborn, passionate, smart ass Y/N appeared, it all clicked. Beneath that kindness was a fierce loyalty to those she loved, and a passion for doing what was right.

Poe, on the other hand, had been warm and outgoing since she first met him. Devoted to the Resistance, with a penchant for being reckless and no fear of breaking rules if it meant the job got done. He thought of the Resistance as his family and was there when someone needed him, no matter what. But after knowing him for so long, she had started to suspect that this life was wearing on him. That he needed someone who wasn’t under his command, someone who didn’t idolize him, to anchor him and heal his soul.

Over the past few months, Jess had become more and more sure that both Y/N and Poe could fill a void in each other’s lives. Not romantically, no… from what she could tell, neither of you were in a place for that. But as friends? She was convinced that you could help each other heal. Help each other grow.

If you asked her, it was obvious. Poe was supportive, always finding the best in people and making sure they saw it in themselves. Y/N needed more people in her life that would reassure her when she got self conscious, and who would hold her up when the sadness was too much to bear alone. And Y/N… sweet Y/N who cared for others infinitely more than she cared for herself, always willing to help with absolutely no judgement or pity. Maybe she could get Poe to acknowledge the toll this war was taking on him, and help him through it when he felt like he had no one to turn to.

Groaning, she laid her head on the table. You two would be perfect, she knew you would. If only she could get the two of you in a room together for more than 30 seconds.

* * *

As soon as Poe set foot in the hangar again, the interrogation began. A string of beeps and whirs, ranging from concerned to frustrated. “Where were you? Why didn’t you find me when you got back? Of course I started the diagnostics, Poe. Why didn’t you take me with you? What are you smiling at?”

Poe couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face. BB-8 was adorable when he was worked up. That was, until he zapped Poe in the leg.

“Hey! Buddy, what was that for?”

BB-8 let out a noise that sounded strangely like a huff.

Poe dropped down on one knee. “ _Ok_ , ok, you’re right. I should have found you when I got back. And I shouldn’t have stayed out so late. And yes, I promise I’ll take you with me next time.”

BB 8 hummed contentedly, and nuzzled Poe’s leg. He chuckled, and patted his friend on the head.

“So, I need to get some caf. Wanna come with?”

BB-8 quietly beeped and booped something that suspiciously sounded like “maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out all night,  _POE_ ” before heading off towards the mess hall, Poe following after.

* * *

After grabbing his caf and dumping in as much sweetener as it would take, Poe scanned the tables for a good place to sit. Spotting Jess resting her head on a table, he made his way over and plopped down next to her. Jess nearly jumped out of her skin as she was jerked out of her thoughts by him plonking his cup on the table. “Kriff, Dameron, are you trying to kill me?” she almost shouted.

“Sorry, Pava. Didn’t mean to interrupt you while you were meditating. You eating that?” he motioned to her porridge.

“Nah, all yours.” She pushed it towards him.

As he ate, BB-8 rolled up next to her and apologized for Poe’s behavior. It began to explain that Poe was out all night, and didn’t even let it know when he got back, could she believe it?!

Jess feigned shock. “That’s horrible and inconsiderate! Be sure you make him do most of the work today, 8.” The droid wobbled happily at her suggestion, and assured her it would.

“Gee, thanks for supporting me there, Jess” Poe mumbled between a mouthful of porridge and a sip of caf. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Since you saw me yesterday afternoon? Not too shabby. I’d ask you the same, but obviously you had an eventful night according to a certain droid. Care to share what you were up to?” she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Poe’s brain froze. Covering his panic with a huge mouthful, he motioned that he needed a moment.  _Shit. What should he tell Jess? Had she talked to Y/N? Did Y/N say anything? Shit._  He scrambled to come up with an answer that he hoped didn’t seem suspicious. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone about the lake. Didn’t think he’d ever be ready to reveal that piece of his soul to anyone again. He swallowed, and prayed to whoever was listening that this was going to be believable. “I woke up super early, couldn’t go back to sleep. Wandered the base for a bit, then went out to the tarmac and wandered into the forest there for a while. Beat staring at the ceiling in my bunk,” he shrugged.

Jess eyed him suspiciously.  _Uh oh,_  he thought,  _did Y/N tell her something different? Kriff, did she tell Jess **everything**? She wouldn’t do that, would she?_

“Did I see you taking to Y/N earlier? Out by the forest? I thought it was you when she waved at me, but couldn’t tell.”

Poe fought the urge to let out a sigh of relief. “Oh! Yeah, that was me. We crossed paths coming out of the forest, and I just wanted to check on her after our lovely ‘introduction’ the other day. I wanted to make sure she wasn’t hurt. And that she didn’t feel too bad about knocking me on my ass.”

Jess rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Oh, I could have told you she was fine. The bad news is she’s clumsy, and always tripping over something or injuring herself in some creative way. The good news is that she’s apparently always been like that, so she bounces back quicker than you’d think.”

Poe smiled and nodded. “Yeah, she seems like a tough one.”

Still smiling to himself, he didn’t notice that Jess had stood up to leave until she spoke. “Well… I’m off to work on this mission report. Can’t seem to focus in here. See you around, Poe.”

“See ya, Jess” he said, not really paying attention. His thoughts were still on you. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he was convinced you were tougher than Jess even knew.


	7. Chapter 7

The next few weeks passed quickly. Jess and the rest of Black Squadron had been sent out on a few small missions, nothing out of the ordinary. All it really meant was that in addition to your usual work, you were busy trying not to worry about her. And, apparently, Poe.

No matter how much you tried to distract yourself with work, Poe was always at the back of your mind. You did your best to keep him there, you really did. But you found you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for his missions to go smoothly, and you wished it was because you cared about what their successes meant for the Resistance as a whole. If you were honest with yourself, though, it was because you were almost certain Poe felt he had no one to lean on when things went south. You feared that the next time something happened, it might break him for good.

So far, your worry had been unfounded. Black Squadron always came back, and each time they did you were rewarded with the usual crushing hug and performance notes from Jess. The new addition that threw you for a loop, however, was the small smile and wave Poe never failed to give you as he left the hangar. He never had time to stop and talk, but you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to see the stumbling mess you became around most people, didn’t want him to know that the Y/N he had met weeks ago wasn’t the real Y/N. That she was an illusion fueled by alcohol, grief, and moonlight.

* * *

Your fear became reality one morning when they came limping back to base battered and bruised. It should have been a simple mission to get information on the First Order’s movements: observe from a distance, then report back. But somewhere along the line it had gone horribly wrong… the details were muddy, but all you knew was that a skirmish had happened near a small, previously unknown outpost. The squadron had gotten away safely with no major injuries, but a few civilians had gotten caught in the crossfire.

The ships, however, were battered and broken. You had your hands full as soon as they got back, repairing the damage on Jess’ ship as well as helping out a few others with their work. The day passed in a whirlwind of grime, sweat, and cussing. Even Bruiser was busy, rolling across the hangar frantically, lending a hand to whoever needed it.

It was late by the time you were finally able to head back to your bunk. The work wasn’t done, but if you didn’t get some sleep you wouldn’t be able to actually fix anything correctly. You turned to Bruiser as you arranged your tools on your workbench, sighing. “Hell of a day, huh bud? Ready to turn in?”

Bruiser beeped and booped that it planned on staying up most of the night running tests, and that it would just charge up in the hangar tonight, not wanting to wake you when it did finish.

You smiled fondly at it, and bent down to give it a hug. “You don’t have to do that, B… it can wait till tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort - It’s power was at 68%, and would be just fine thank you. But you, on the other hand, looked like you needed to sleep for a year.

“Wow, you sure know how to flatter a girl, B.” you tease the droid. Knowing you couldn’t convince it otherwise, you gave it a last pat and said goodnight. It nudged your knee affectionately, and sped off to work.

Standing up, you stretched your aching body. All you wanted to do was collapse in bed, but you forced yourself to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading down the hall to the communal ‘freshers to wash up. The last thing you needed to add to your ever growing to-do list was cleaning grease stained sheets.

* * *

Feeling slightly better now that you were in pajamas and no longer grimy, you shuffled down the corridor back to your bunk. Maker, you needed sleep, and you needed it now.

Your door had barely shut behind you when you heard loud footsteps in the hall, followed by quiet knocking on your door. Rolling your eyes and letting out an exasperated groan, you turn around and yank the door open before whoever it was could finish knocking. It was probably a junior mechanic who had spied you coming back, and wanted help with something. You try not to sound too irritated at their intrusion, but fail. “Look, I know there’s more work to do, but I’m sorry, I’m beat. Find me tomorrow morning and I’ll help then, ok?”

As you finish your less-than-pleasant speech, you finally recognize the person in front of you. It’s Poe, a sad smile on his face. “Geeze, remind me to not ever ask you for anything late at night ever again,” he quips.

Your eyes widen and your stomach drops, anxiety setting in. Fuck, how much of an asshole must he think you are? “P-Poe!” You stammer, “I am SO sorry, I thought you were one of the other mechanics coming to ask me to help them with something and I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to do that right now but if I had known it was you I wouldn’t have snapped like that I’m so sorry it’s just been a long day and I… shit I’m rambling I’m so sorry, did you need something?” You blush furiously, mentally kicking yourself for being so damned awkward.

To your surprise, Poe doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people tend to be when your mouth is running faster than your brain. His smile has grown a little brighter, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement. When you meet his gaze though, the smile fades. He begins to shuffle his feet - this must be a nervous tic of his. He speaks, but shifts his gaze away from you as he does. “I know it’s late, but I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering, what you said by the forest… did you mean it?”

You quickly replay the morning in your mind, not that you need to. You remember all of it perfectly. You told him he didn’t have to ever face anything alone, not if he didn’t want to. You nod. “Of course I meant it, Poe”.

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Um, well… today… today was rough. And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, really, no pressure. But, um, I’d really like to not be alone tonight, not if I don’t have to be.”

You barely caught the last part, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. When what he says registers, you’re frozen in place.  _Poe fucking Dameron_ had a rough go and was coming to you for help. Wanted to be around you when he was hurting. What the  _hell_  was going on?

“Actually, forget I said anything, Y/N,” he blurts out.  “I can’t imagine how tired you are, I know the ships were in bad shape and you must’ve had a long day. I’ll just let you get some sleep.” He quickly turns to leave, but before he can get two steps down the hall he’s stopped by your hand on his forearm.

Slightly shocked at your own actions - you’d swear your arm moved of its own accord - you stare at him, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “Poe Dameron, get your ass in here,” you command, not unkindly. When he doesn’t move, you gently pull him towards you. With a sigh of relief you suspect he thought was quieter than it actually was, he follows you into your bunk.

When the door shuts, you finally get a good look at him. Everyone knows Poe is handsome… dark curls, warm eyes, and a smile that could knock the breath right out of you. Even though all of that is still there, his hair is disheveled and still wet from the ‘fresher. His eyes don’t have that glint of mischief in them, and are ringed with red. He’s smiling, but it’s weak and fading fast. The man before you wasn’t the Poe everyone else knew, and your heart broke for him all over again.

Being around people you didn’t know well stressed you out, and Poe definitely was still in that category. But your anxiety had a loophole: if someone was in distress, a twisted maternal instinct took over, forcing your nerves to slink off and hide in the recesses of your mind. And in this moment, who he normally was didn’t matter. The Poe standing in your bunk needed someone to take care of him, to lift the burden of being a leader from his shoulders for one night so he could feel freely without fear of ridicule. So that’s what you were going to do.

He glances around your bunk, shifting on his feet, obviously a little uncomfortable intruding on your personal space. It was messy, but still organized. The desk was littered with manuals and hastily scrawled notes, blueprints for new mods tacked up on the wall above it. Your hammock hung in the corner, a blanket halfway out of it. The walls around it and your bed were covered in sketches of ships, both old and new. On your clothes cabinet, a small holoprojector flipped through a few photos of you, Wills, Jess, and Cade.

“It’s not much, but it’s home”, you shrug, wanting to put him at ease.  He wanders over to look at the sketches of the ships, a genuine smile crossing his face. “These are amazing! Did you draw all of these?”

You smile at the sketches, laugh quietly. “I wish. I have zero artistic ability. My brother drew them.”

“Well, he certainly has a gift.” You hum your agreement, not bothering to correct him. Had a gift. As Poe finishes looking at the sketches he turns to you, smile fading completely. “Y/N…” he begins, but you cut him off. “Poe, stop.” He looks at you, confused and a bit taken aback by your firm tone. But when you sit on the bed and motion for him to sit next to you, he does.

You turn your body slightly, so you’re facing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, your voice gentler than before. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”

“That’s fine, Poe. Do you want to talk at all?” He looks at you, dejected. “No,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I just… I needed to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from me. And I thought after that night, maybe you knew what that felt like… and maybe you wouldn’t judge me for needing it.” Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turns away from you.

You fight a sudden urge to envelop him in a hug, to try to physically hold together the pieces of the fractured man in front of you. Instead, you force yourself to stand up. Walking over to the control panel, you dim the lights to a soft glow. You return to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of him.

Gently covering one of his hands with both of yours, you murmur his name and try to catch his eye. “Poe, I’ll be anything you need me to be, ok? Just let me know and I’ll be here for you.”

He still refuses to meet your gaze, but nods. You sigh, unsure of how to best help him. “Do you want me to talk about something? Take your mind off things?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe?”

He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I want, except to not be alone. Everyone else would just keep asking if I was ok, but you know I’m not. So can we just sit, and not bother pretending that everything is alright?”

You slowly release his hand, and stand up. “Of course, Poe,” you say softly. “I have some reading I wanted to do before bed, so I’m gonna go sit at my desk and do that. You can lay on my bed, climb in the hammock, pace, stare off into space, whatever you’d like. I’ll be here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just knowing there’s someone with you.” He mumbles a barely audible thank you, and you turn towards your desk, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from your own eyes.

Poe was restless, but he didn’t get up from your bed. At least, not that you could tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that as soon as you saw him his pain would bleed into you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop your tears. You didn’t care if he saw you cry, not really. He’d already seen that. But you knew if you did, he’d immediately bury his feelings to try and comfort you. And Poe didn’t deserve that. He was always taking care of everyone else, and it was high time someone took care of him.

Two hours went by before you felt brave enough to turn and check on him, not having heard any noises for the past half hour. The sight before you tugged at your heartstrings: Poe was fast asleep and snoring lightly. His head rested on one of your pillows and his arms clutched the other tightly to his chest, while his legs dangled off the side of your small bed. You moved to wake him, assuming he would probably want to return to his own bed. But as you drew nearer, you stopped short. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest after a rough night, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up and rob him of what was probably the first good sleep he’d had in a long while.

Carefully pulling the blanket from where it was bunched up under his legs, you covered him. Without thinking, you tenderly let your hand wander to his forehead and brush a curl out of his eyes. You begin to tear up once again, wishing you could take away his pain. And before you know you’re speaking, you whisper out the thought that has been floating in your head ever since he walked in your door. “I’m so sorry, Poe. I’m so sorry you’re a good man, because if you weren’t all this would be so much easier for you.”

Slipping towards you hammock, you wad up a jacket to use as a pillow. You turn the lights completely off and hop up into it, covering yourself with your spare blanket. Only when you shut your eyes do you finally let the tears slip out as his even breathing lulls you to sleep.

* * *

You wake with a start, the sound of your alarm pounding in your ears. Maker, you were NOT a morning person. Slinging your legs over the side of your bed, you stand up. And immediately land facedown on the ground, dumped out of your hammock unceremoniously by your favorite force: gravity.

Groaning, you shove yourself upright, still groggy. Why the hell were you sleeping in your hammock? You catch sight of the freshly made bed. Weird, you rarely made it. A piece of paper on the pillow catches your eye. Weirder. You grab it, and as you start to read the night before begins to come back.

> _Y/N,_
> 
> _I’m so sorry for sneaking out, I had a briefing early this morning. I was going to tell you goodbye, but you looked so cozy. I just couldn’t wake you._
> 
> _Thanks again for… well, you know. You didn’t have to, but it means a lot that you did._
> 
> _I hope I’ll see you around today._
> 
> _Poe Dameron_

Your read the short note once, twice, three times. Hating how happy it made you that he cared enough to leave it, hoping that you had at least done some good for him. You set the note back down on your pillow as you get ready for the day.

You finish lacing up your boots and walk to the door, but turn back just before opening it. Grabbing the note, you quickly walk over to your desk and open a drawer. Just like the lake, last night was for you and Poe only, and you wanted to keep the memory safe. So you carefully tucked it next to the few meaningful keepsakes you owned: an old rusted bolt, a handkerchief, and a small wooden box.

You shut the drawer with a flick of your wrist and set off to start your day, smiling for a reason you just couldn’t put your finger on.


	8. Chapter 8

The hangar is a flurry of activity as you walk in. Between fixing Black Squadron’s ships and prepping Blue Squadron’s ships for their mission today, every mechanic was up to their eyebrows in work. Swinging by your workbench, you grab a protein bar from your stash. You had too much to do today, and not enough time for a real breakfast. Spying Bruiser over by Wills’ X-wing, you grab your toolbox and jog over.

“Moooorning B!” You call out. It beeps back an exaggerated good morning of its own and bumps your leg affectionately as you set you box down, asking what you had in store for it today. “So, we have to get through this pre-flight check for Wills before they leave for their mission in a few hours, and then get to repairing Jess’ ship. How’d those diags go last night?”

Bruiser beeps noncommittally, its equivalent of a shoulder shrug. As you begin your check of Will’s ship, it explains that Jess’ ship wasn’t as bad as it looked. But, you still had a good amount of work on the life support system, targeting computer, and deflector shield generator. Plus a bit of cosmetic work needed to be done, and a laser cannon was jammed. You hum to yourself. It was a lot, but you were expecting more. “Thanks for the rundown, B. Definitely not as bad as we thought. I should be good for now, but once I finish this check d’you think you could do one more rundown on it? Wanna make sure she’s perfect for Wills today.”

Bruiser rolls its head in a circle, something you’ve come to recognize as its version of an eye roll. You glare at it playfully out of the corner of your eye. It huffs, and you smile. Such a stubborn little droid. Kneeling down to its level, you put on your best pouty face, sticking out your bottom lip. “Please B? For me?” You bat your eyes. It beeps out “fine, but only because you said please” before bumping you affectionately with a warm hum that sounded almost like a purr.

You kiss the top of its head sweetly. “You’re the best droid, you know that?” It beeps that it does, and asks what it can do to help in the meantime as you both get to work.

* * *

Two hours later, you’re satisfied enough with the state of Wills’ ship to declare her fit for flight. As you finish picking up the tools that are scattered around you, you see Wills break from his squad meeting as everyone head towards their ships on the tarmac. When he reaches you, he smiles and wraps you in a warm hug. He looks at you when he pulls away, fake doubt in his eyes. “She space worthy, Major Y/L/N?”

You shrug noncommittally. “Eh. She shouldn’t blow up.  _Probably_.” You and Wills grin at each other, holding back laughter and unable to keep a straight face. You have this exchange each time he leaves. It started out as a joke, but the superstition of pilots has rubbed off on you more than you care to admit. He hasn’t had any mechanical trouble during a mission since you started doing it, and it’s a necessary ritual at this point. Not saying it seems like a jinx. Grabbing your hand and giving it a quick squeeze, Wills turns and climbs into the cockpit. As he lowers the canopy he blows you an exaggerated kiss, which you catch and give to Bruiser. Wills smiles at the happy shimmy Bruiser does upon receiving the kiss, waves, then takes off with the rest of his squadron.

You watch the horizon till you can no longer see them, and mutter a prayer to whoever is listening that they come back home safe. Turning to Bruiser, you smile. “Well bud, let’s go see what Jess has for us this afternoon, yeah?”

You head back inside with Bruiser at your heels, running through your mental checklist on your way to Jess’ X-wing. As you reach the ship, you sigh. This was going to be a long afternoon.

* * *

On the other side of the tarmac, Poe had observed your interaction with Wills from the cockpit of his ship. As he watched you walk back inside, he realized that he had been smiling through the whole thing. He wasn’t sure what was said, but he knew a pre-flight ritual when he saw one. And seeing it made his heart happier than it had any right to be.

Poe never had a dedicated mechanic, simply because it seemed like most of them were disinterested at best, obsessed with getting the work done as quickly as possible. Better to just do it yourself. But you… you were something else. 

Sighing, Poe turns back to his work. As the hours pass, his thoughts keep drifting back to you. Out of nowhere, a shot of jealousy hits him. It was obvious that you and Wills has something special. You probably had it with Jess, too. You took pride in your work, but it was secondary to the relationships you formed with the people around you. 

One thought crystallizes clearly in Poe’s mind: he wants to have you the same way Wills and Jess have you. The smiles, the silly rituals, the inside jokes. He wants - no,  _needs_  -  the happy, radiant Y/N that he’s observed at a distance since your first meeting to be a part of his life, just as much as he needs the quiet, soft, comforting Y/N that he’s known until now.

Making up his mind, he hops down from his ship and jogs into the hangar.

* * *

After four solid hours of tinkering, rewiring, and tightening, you had just about completed everything that needed repairs on Jess’ X-wing. The last thing on your list was a temperamental front landing gear. Wiping your hands on your grease stained pants, you stoop down and begin examining each visible component. You spot the problem quickly: a bent fork is preventing the plate from lying completely flat. You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. Of course it was something that needed a replacement part, not just a repair.

You call Bruiser over, and he comes rolling around from the other side of the ship. “Hey B, I need a new lower front landing gear fork for a T-70. Would you mind going to check and see if there’s one in parts storage for me?” It beeped that it would be happy to, and sped off. That droid may have an attitude, but when you actually needed help while elbows deep in work it was always willing to do what it could to help. Smiling to yourself, you lay on your back to look up at the landing gear hatch, just to be sure there wasn’t something else adding to the problem. You were so engrossed in what you were doing, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching you.

* * *

As you lay on your back, something suddenly tapped your foot. Thinking it was Bruiser, you sit up and crawl out from under the ship. But instead of a black and blue sphere, you’re staring at a pair of knees. “Well you’re not a droid”, you mumble under your breath.

“Sorry, definitely not a droid.”  The warm laugh makes you stumble as you stand. It’s Poe. You’ve been dreading this moment… He was a genuinely caring and outgoing person, everyone knew that. You figured it was just a matter of time before he tried to engage with you outside of the two nights you had spent together. But no matter how much you had prepared for this moment, now that it was here you were panicking.

“N-nope, you’re definitely a human.” You stutter out. Poe smiles, and you swear your heart stops for a moment. “So, I know you’re probably busy with Jess’ ship… but I don’t have a mechanic, and one of the s-foils on Black One is jammed shut. I can’t seem to figure it out, but Jess says your like the X-wing whisperer. Could you maybe take a look? If you have a second later?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Talking to people was difficult for you, but fixing ships was easy. This you could do. “Sure thing, Commander. I actually have some time now if that works? Waiting to see if we have a part I need for Jess.”

He smiles even wider than before, and you’re afraid his face might actually split in half. “Yes! Thank you so much! She’s just outside.” He motions for you to follow him and you do, quickly grabbing your tools on the way. He continues as you walk the short distance to his ship. “Really, thank you. I’m usually pretty good with this stuff, but I just can’t figure this one out, and neither can BB-8. It won’t even open. I tried prying it up but couldn’t get anything under the seam. At this point I’m afraid that if I do any more I’ll break it.”  

You nodded as you neared Black One. You’d heard other mechanics whisper about how’d they be terrified to work on Poe Dameron’s ship, but you never understood them. Strip away the flashy paint job and it’s revered pilot, and it was just like any other X-wing in the fleet. The same mechanisms, the same systems, the same problems. 

You already had an idea of what was causing the jam. “Well they can get stuck sometimes, but there’s usually a release mechanism on the edge of the panel if you can get in there,” you state as you climb the ladder to the cockpit, and hop onto the back of the ship. Looking questioningly at Poe on the ground, he realizes what you need to know. “Top of the right wing, third one in.” You carefully make your way to the offending s-foil. Crouching down next to it, your fingers trace the outline, pushing and prodding to see if there’s any give.

“How we looking up there?” You hear Poe call from below you, and you stifle a groan. You hated chatty pilots. They deserved to know what was wrong with their ship, obviously. But you couldn’t stand the ones who wouldn’t leave you alone while you worked. It made everything take longer, and usually ended up with their egotistical selves questioning your methods. Sure, they knew how their ships handled better than anyone, and mechanics and pilots often needed to work hand in hand to diagnose and fix a problem. But this was  _not_  one of those times.

Suppressing your annoyance, you quickly answered so you could get on with it. “It’s well and truly jammed. But I can get it open.” If he was going to hover, you might as well make use of him. ‘Can you grab the smallest metal shim there is out of my toolbox and throw it up here? Should be in the top left compartment” No response. “Uh, Commander? Did you hear me?”

As you looked up, a mess of curls popped up above the edge of the wing, startling you enough that you let out a high pitched squeak and fell backwards onto your ass.

“Easy there Y/N, it’s just me,” Poe grinned. “And seriously, it’s just Poe. None of this ‘Commander’ garbage.” Poe hands you the shim and you take it from him with a whispered thank you. 

Wedging the thin, tapered piece of metal under the s-foil, you’re able to force it up a fraction of an inch. It’s not much, but it’s all the clearance you need. You pull a pin from your hair, and flip it around in your hand. Poe looks at you questioningly. “Uh, Y/N? Thought you were fixing my ship, not doing your hair.” You roll your eyes and shoot him a mischievous grin. “Watch and learn, flyboy.”

You bite your lip as you gently insert the pin into the space, dragging it along the opening until… there it is. Resistance. Just as you thought, the catch was stuck on something. Wiggling the pin with a concentrated look on your face, you break out into a smile when the catch releases and the s-foil springs open.

Right away, you spot the problem. A big glob of congealed grease is surrounding the catch, gumming up the works. You look at Poe, a disapproving look on your face and an incredulous tone in your voice. “Really? Do you ever clean these mechanisms out?” He looks away sheepishly. If he had known the cause of the problem was that embarrassing, he would’ve asked someone else for help. This was ship maintenance 101. Now he just looked like a jackass who doesn’t take care of his ship, which couldn’t be further from the truth. But you didn’t know that.

Scrambling, he tries to defend himself. “Um, well, Leia - I mean the General -  has had me really busy lately, so I may have forgotten to clean the catches after the last few missions.” He runs a hand through his hair, a blush creeping up on his face.

You tut at him, a small smile forming. You couldn’t blame him for being busy. Everyone at the base was. But if he wasn’t doing all of the routine maintenance religiously, things much worse than this could go wrong. As you cleaned out the gunk with a rag and re-greased the mechanism, you chided him gently. He was obviously embarrassed, but you had no desire to humiliate him.

“Y’know, us mechanics are around for stuff like this. I understand the pride factor in taking care of your baby, but if you don’t have time you really should ask to be assigned one. There’s a lot of great people who can take on another pilot right now. They don’t have to do everything, but they can definitely take a few things off your plate.”

You sit up on your knees as you finish, enjoying the satisfaction that came from successfully fixing something, no matter how small. “There! Good as new.” You turn to look at Poe, but immediately regret it. His brown eyes are locked on you as a thoughtful look spreads over his face. “Lots of great people, huh?”

Quickly looking away and making a show of gathering up the objects strewn on the wing, you try to pretend he isn’t still looking at you. “Um, yeah. If you’re interested I’d recommend Jak or Johe, they’re both really skilled. Anything else I can help you with Comm- Poe?”

“What about you?”

You freeze. “Wha- What about me?”

He looks up at you, now resting his arms on the wing and cocking his head to the side. “Would you be willing to take on another pilot? Jess raves about you, and she doesn’t give praise unless it’s earned. Plus, I’ve been thinking I should probably just suck it up and ask for help.”

You swallow thickly. You definitely  _could_  take on another pilot… but Poe? The best pilot in the Resistance? That was pressure you didn’t need. You turned to him, fully intending to say no. But what actually came out of your traitor mouth was, “Oh, sure. I’d be happy to”.

 _What the fuck, Y/N_ , you thought, kicking yourself for saying yes. But you frustration dissipated when you saw how elated Poe was at your response. He was beaming. “Really? That’s great! I didn’t think you’d say yes!”

You chuckle nervously, wondering what exactly you had gotten yourself into. “What can I say, when people ask for help I just can’t say no,” you mutter, more to yourself than him. “Do you need me to look at anything else while I’m here?”

Hopping down from the box he was standing on below the wing, he shook his head. “No, that should be it for now. Thanks again, Y/N, you’re a miracle worker.”

Flushing at the compliment, you carefully walk over the body of the ship towards the ladder. But as you begin your descent the ladder shifts suddenly, pinching your fingers between it and the fuselage.

Biting your lip in pain, you let out a small yelp. Prying your fingers out, you carefully climb the rest of he way down. This happens often enough that you don’t even bother to look and assess the damage. It’ll either be bruised tomorrow, or it won’t. You don’t even realize it’s worse than usual until Poe gingerly takes your hand and holds it up, eyes going wide. “Kriff, Y/N, you’re bleeding! Are you ok?”

Looking at your hand, you realize he’s right. There’s a deep cut around the pad of your left index finger. You can almost see the bone, and it’s bleeding pretty heavily. You cock your head to the side. “Huh. I am,” you say, not a trace of concern in your voice.

Poe is stunned at your calm, and “Shit Y/N, this is pretty bad. We need to get you to the medbay.” He says, inspecting the cut. Your shrug. “It’s just a little blood. I’ll hold it together with some butterflies, put some bacta spray on it, wrap it up, and it’ll be fine.” You’ve had worse, and know that the folks in the medbay have actual patients to attend to. You didn’t see any reason to bother them when you could fix this up yourself.

You pull your eyes away from the cut. Poe is looking at you like you’re crazy, glance darting between your face and your hand. “Come on Poe, I’m sure you’ve seen worse than this” you tease, realizing he’s still holding your hand. You feel heat creep into your cheeks, and the nerves set in. Flustered, you slowly pull your hand from his, careful to not get blood on him. “I, um, I should probably go patch this up. Before I bleed out through my finger.” You cover the cut with a clean rag from your pocket to absorb the blood, grab your tools with your good hand, and scamper off towards your bunk.

Poe stood where you left him, dumbfounded. It’s not that he thought you were the kind of girl that fainted at the sight of blood… Most people in this fight were ok with injuries, and calm in a crisis. But that… that was a level of calm he didn’t expect. Like it happened regularly, which made no sense. You were a mechanic, not a fighter.

Snapping out of his daze, he moves to follow you and see if you need help patching yourself up when his commlink beeps. General Organa requesting to see him urgently about a new mission. He sighs, and changes course towards the command center. Forcing down the sudden guilt he’s hit with, he promises himself he’d check in on you later.


	9. Chapter 9

The meeting with General Organa was quick. There was a lead on a First Order contingent that was trafficking weapons, and she wanted to assess whether or not they were a credible threat. Poe and two other pilots of his choosing just needed to fly in to their last known location, and extract as much information from the locals as possible. An easy in and out mission, nothing they hadn’t done before. After going over the rough details of the plan, Poe assumed he was dismissed and got up to leave. **  
**

Before he could get to the door, Leia called to him. “Poe, stay a second, would you?”  

He slowly turned around, confused as to what she could want, mentally running through a list of reckless things he had done recently. As he stood there she fiddled on her data pad, obviously looking for something.

“I had some papers come through a minute ago. You’re requesting that you be assigned a mechanic?” She asks, curiosity in her voice.

Poe stuttered. “Um yes, yes ma’am.” He had quickly filled out and submitted the request forms on a borrowed data pad while walking to the command center, wanting to make it official as soon as possible. Although maybe not  _this_  soon.

“Can I ask why? You’ve been quite stubborn, refusing help since you joined us. What’s changed?” she inquired.

For the first time in a long time, Poe Dameron was at a loss for words. The only reason he could come up with was “because I need to be around her,” which definitely wouldn’t fly. Scrambling, he tried to put together a half believable alternative. “Um, I realized that I was neglecting some basic maintenance due to the rest of my duties. Didn’t want to fall out of the sky because of poor repairs on my part.”

Leia studied his face carefully, with a gaze so intense it makes Poe feel like he was going to break out in a flop sweat. Whatever she was looking for, she found after a few tense seconds. She quirked an eyebrow at him, and smirk crept across her face. “You’re a terrible liar, Dameron. Might want to work on that before she finds out the  _real_  reason why you decided you need a mechanic. Us women always figure out the truth.  _Always_.”

Looking down at her datapad, she tapped the screen a few times. “Regardless, it’s approved. Y/N Y/L/N is now officially assigned to you. That’s all.”

When Leia turned her back to him, Poe made a beeline for the door, feeling more nervous than he should. Normally, he would have stayed and floated around the comm center for a bit, catching up with everyone there. Leia’s words were echoing in his mind, though, and all he wanted to do was get out of there as quickly as he could.

* * *

That was an hour ago, and Poe hasn’t moved since. He was sitting in the mess hall, staring at an empty bowl that had held some kind of stew up until about 20 minutes ago. He was still a bit shaken.  _How did Leia see through him that easily? Kriff, he needed to get a better lie together in case someone else asked. Jess and Snap would definitely ask._

He’s startled out of his thoughts and jerked back to reality when Jess plops down across from him. 

“Earth to Poe,” she sings, waving a hand in front of his face. “I’ve been trying to get you to notice me since I walked in here five minutes ago. What’s up?”

Poe shakes his head, trying to get it back on straight. “Sorry, Jess. Was just lost in thought. Going over plans for the mission in two days. Me, you, Snap. You up for it?”

She grins as she stuffs a spoonful of meat and broth into her mouth. “You bet your ass I am!”

“Glad to hear it.” A beep sounds from Poe’s pocket, and he jumps. Reaching for the device, he disregards the message as soon as he sees the time. It’s MUCH later than he thought.  _Shit, will Y/N still be in her room? Or has she left to go do something else?_  he thinks frantically.

He quickly moves to leave and make his excuses to Jess, but he’s stopped by her hand on his wrist. She looks up at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “Not so fast, Dameron. You have some explaining to do.”

“You worried my mission plan isn’t good enough, Pava?” He teases good naturedly as he sits back down, trying to not show his irritation at being kept back.  

“Oh no, the mission plan is fine. Great, in fact. What I want to know is why I got a notification on my datapad that Poe Dameron, Mr. I-do-all-my-own-maintenance-so-keep-your-hands-off-my-ship, requested and was assigned a mechanic today. MY mechanic, to be precise.” She stares him down intently.

_Kriffing hell_ , Poe thinks, _time to lie again_. “Uh, yeah. The General’s been keeping me busier than ever lately. And when we got back yesterday I found an issue on my ship that could’ve been avoided, but happened because I slacked off on maintenance. Figured I should ask for help before I end up falling out of the sky”, he shrugs.

Jess eyes him suspiciously, and he prays that she believes his bullshit more than Leia did. “And you just  _happened_  to get assigned to my precious Y/N by chance, is that it? Or are there more sinister forces at work here?” Confusion flashes across Poe’s face. He has no idea what she’s talking about.

Jess breaks out in a laugh, reaching across the table and playfully shoving his shoulder. “Relax, Poe, I’m just giving you a hard time. I saw her helping you earlier. Plus if you had asked me who you should request as a mechanic, I definitely would have told you to go for Y/N.”

Poe smiles fondly. “Yeah, I see why you rave about her so much. I’d been working on that s-foil for an hour, she fixed it in 10 minutes. It was amazing.”

While Poe continues to elaborate on how you had fixed the jammed s-foil, Jess struggles to contain her excitement. She’s already plotting ways to make sure the two of you could spend time together. But for now, it was time to put her plan in motion. Step one: sing Y/N’s praises. 

“You’re gonna adore her Poe. She’s a genius when it comes to ships, and can fix anything you throw at her. But she’s also the kindest, sweetest, biggest-hearted person I’ve ever met. If you’re lucky enough to be her friend - which trust me, you want to be - there is nothing that girl won’t do for you.”

Trying to cover up his true feelings - that he wanted nothing more than to have that kind of relationship with you - Poe wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Anything, eh Jess?”

Jess rolls her eyes, chucking a used napkin in his direction. “Classy, Poe. Real nice. This is my friend we’re talking about. ” Poe chuckles, amused at Jess’ reaction and relieved his diversion worked.

She speaks again, a more serious tone in her voice. “But really Poe, you should try to be friends with her. She’s painfully shy and anxious around new people, pretty much the exact opposite of you. So don’t force it. If you put in the time and effort to get to know her on her terms, you won’t regret it. And honestly, I think she’d be good for you. You need a friend who isn’t a pilot. Helps keep you grounded.”

Poe’s chest tightens, knowing she’s right. But he’ll be damned if he tells her that now. “Thanks Jess. I’ll keep that in mind. But we all know she won’t be able to resist me and my charms” He flashes a winning smile, and moves to stand up again. This time, Jess doesn’t stop him.

“See you around, Jess.”

“Later, Poe,” she mumbles around another bite of stew.  

* * *

Poe quickly leaves the mess hall, making a beeline for your room. As soon as Jess had confirmed his suspicions that being around others made you uncomfortable, he had come up with a plan. And he was going to start it tonight.

As he makes his way towards your bunk, Poe loses himself to his thoughts. If he’s being honest with himself, he likes the little arrangement you two have been trying out. Not a secret, just… something no one can intrude on. Something no one can ruin. 

One of the few things he’s certain of is that he never wants you to feel uncomfortable around him. He  _needed_  to be a part of your life, but he was going to do it on your terms. Even if that took longer than he would like. What scares him, though, is that he’s never felt so convinced of something so quickly in his life. Not even becoming a pilot.

BB-8 rolls at his heels, jerking Poe out of his own mind by asking where they were headed. “To see a friend, buddy.”

“Snap?” The droid inquires excitedly. It loved Snap, he always gave it plenty of attention.

Poe smiled as they near your door. “No buddy, not Snap. But I promise, you’re going to like her.”


	10. Chapter 10

You’d been hiding in your room since you’d left Poe standing there in the hangar. A quick raid of your own stash of medical supplies confirmed you were out of bandaging, so you had sent Bruiser to go get some from the medbay.

It had come back quickly and helped you wrap the gash on your finger. Thankfully, it wasn’t too mad that you hadn’t been there when it came back with the part for Jess’ ship… just scolded you a bit for being careless and hurting yourself again. It was now powered down in the corner, while you laid on the floor beating yourself up for being such a kriffing idiot.

You had definitely toyed with the idea of taking on another pilot. You had enough time, so that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that you had said yes to  _Poe fucking Dameron_. Since you had agreed, your mind had been a never-ending montage of ways you could embarrass yourself in front of him and make realize he made a mistake choosing you because you’re the clumsiest, most awkward being in the Resistance.

Groaning, you plant your left hand on your face. As you do, you feel a wet spot. Great. You bled through the bandage. You hop up, reluctantly waking Bruiser. “Hey bud, I’m sorry. But I bled through the bandage and need to change it… could you help?”

It readily whirs its agreement: of course it would. It’s gotta be sure you heal correctly so you can repair it if it breaks down. If your hands don’t work, you’re no good to it.

You chuckle and shake your head. “I love you too, B. That’s what you were trying to say, right?” Bruiser hums happily, and follows you towards the pile of supplies on your desk.

Just as you’re about to peel the old blood soaked bandage off, there’s a soft knock at your door. Before you can ask who it is, Bruiser speeds to the door and bumps the panel near the floor you had installed for him, emitting a random series of beeps and boops. The door slid open, revealing a confused Poe Dameron, and an equally confused droid peeking out from behind his legs. 

He looks from you, to Bruiser, and back to you. “Did… did a droid just open your door?”

“Umm.. yes?” You affirm, biting your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“How?” To your surprise, he sounded genuinely curious.

“Um, well, I didn’t want Bruiser to have to wait for me if it needed to get in or out, cause I keep parts and tools and stuff in here sometimes. So I installed those plates near the floor, one inside and one outside. It can just bump them and with the right audio input, it’ll open or close the door for it,” you explain sheepishly.

Poe bends down to inspect the panel outside. “That’s… That’s genius Y/N. But how can you be sure someone won’t hack it?” He looks up at you, genuine interest in his eyes.

You smile shyly, excited to show off your creation. No one had asked about it before. “Here, I’ll show you. Come in, and have your droid try to close it from in here.”

Poe strides in, BB-8 close behind. The droid looks up at him. “Go ahead, buddy,” Poe says as he motions to the panel.

BB-8 looks at the panel carefully for a moment, and bumps into the panel. Nothing happens, and it turns to you. “Is there a password?”

You smile down at it. “Yep. But only Bruiser knows it. So if you want to know you’ll have to ask it.” Dropping down to a squat, you nod to the orange and white astromech. “We haven’t met, by the way. I’m Y/N L/N, and this is BB-6C, but he likes to be called Bruiser.”

BB-8 beeps a hello and introduces himself, and Bruiser responds in kind. BB-8 surveys the room, and its gaze lands on the blueprints above your desk. It quickly rolls closer, and excitedly asks if those are real mod sketches on the wall above your desk. You chuckle. “They are. You wanna take a look? I can pull them down for you and Bruiser can answer any questions you have… It helped me come up with most of them.”

BB-8 whirred happily: it would love that! You quickly grab a few off the wall and a couple new ideas off your desk, and lay them in a neat stack for them to look through. “You guys enjoy, ok?”

The droids ignore you, already deep in conversation, excited beeps and boops echoing around your small room.  You giggle, amused at the barrage of questions BB-8 was throwing at Bruiser. You could have listened to their conversation all night, but a gentle tap on your shoulder reminds you that Poe is still there. 

When you turn around, he’s sporting one of his trademark smiles. “That plate system you rigged up really is amazing, Y/N.”

You blush, and turn away. “Oh.. um, thanks. It was nothing really. Once I had the idea fleshed out it only took me a few hours to build the plates, and less than that to install and calibrate them”.

You move back to the spread of medical supplies on your desk, and begin unwinding the used gauze. As you fumbled with the roll, trying to get it wrapped around your finger with just one hand, it fell to the floor. Or it would have, if Poe hadn’t snatched it before it hit the ground. He held out his free hand, motioning for you to give yours to him. “Here, let me help you with that.”

A blush crept up your cheeks. You really didn’t have much choice. You couldn’t do it yourself, and Bruiser was way too engrossed in the blueprints with BB-8… you’d hate to bother it.

You hold your hand out to him, pointer finger extended. It was shaking slightly, and you desperately tried to make the shaking stop. You don’t have a chance, though, as Poe’s free hand shoots out and takes yours. His grip is firm but soft as he holds your hand still and pins the end of the gauze strip under his thumb. His other hand passes the roll around your finger, until it’s wrapped in several layers. Clipping the excess from the end, he neatly ties it off.

“There. Good as new,” he proclaims. He smiles when you catch his eye, your thank you a barely audible whisper. You gently try to remove your hand from his, but he holds onto it for a moment before giving it a soft squeeze and letting it drop.

As you busy yourself with tucking the excess material back into the med kit on your desk, you hear him shift his weight from foot to foot again. Bracing yourself for the painful conversation you know is about to happen, you turn to face him.

Just as you thought, he’s shifting his weight awkwardly, and rubbing the back of his neck.  _Stars_ , you think,  _this man needs to get better at hiding his nervous habits_.

“Um, Y/N, could we maybe talk?”

Plastering on a fake smile, you launch into the speech you had rehearsed a million times since you got back to your bunk. “Oh, it’s fine Poe,” you rush, “I totally understand. You don’t want a mechanic who almost slices of her finger working on your ship. I get it. I’ll reach out to Jak tomorrow and see if he can-“

Poe’s expression changes from nervous to bewildered as he processes what you’re saying. He throws a hand up, shaking his head and stopping you.  “Woah, woah, woah! Y/N. Slow down, and back up. I still want you as my mechanic. Unless you’ve changed your mind? Which is fine, I don’t want to overload you if Wills and Jess keep you too busy.”

“That… that’s not what you wanted to talk about?” You sputter.

“No!  _Kriff_ , no! I um, I wanted to ask you about last night.”

Your heart sank, and panic crept in. Did you do something wrong? Was he mad at you? You were not prepared for this.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, calm down, I can see you overthinking from here. C’mere, let’s sit.” He sinks into your bed, gently patting the spot next to him. You sit, but face straight ahead, barely looking at him from the corner of your eye.

He turns towards you, not caring that you won’t look at him. He moves to place a hand on your leg, but thinks better of it and pulls back. “Hey, look. Jess told me you’re a little shy. And that’s totally fine!” He pauses, taking a deep breath before continuing, painfully aware of all the negative ways you could react to what he was about to say.  

“But I really like you. I just… I feel calm around you. And… and I need that. I want to be around you, to be your friend, if you’ll let me. We can keep it like this, just us in the evenings with no one else, if that helps. I don’t want you to ever feel nervous around me. I’m literally just a big idiot who happens to be good at flying ships. Nothing special.”

When you turn to face him, you’re taken aback by the vulnerability in his eyes, the desperation hiding beneath it. You’re unsure of how to tell him what’s on your mind, not wanting to hurt him. You speak softly, staring back down at your lap.  “Poe, you’re one of the people everyone looks to on base. There’s not a person here who doesn’t know Commander Poe Dameron, Resistance Hero. You’re always in the spotlight, even if you don’t think you are. And even though the spotlight’s on you, it hits everyone around you, too. I just… I don’t want to be seen. I can’t be in it, even a little bit.”

Poe can’t tear his gaze from you. He can’t help but wonder if you know how often he feels the same way. “I understand that, Y/N. More than you’d think.” 

He stares at you for a second, not caring if you catch him. Ducking his head to meet your gaze, he speaks in a gentle, almost pleading tone. “Look, how about this. We don’t have to do anything in front of people, aside from the usual maintenance things. But… maybe I can come see you here sometimes?”

When you don’t respond immediately, he rushes into a string of assurances. “Only if you’re ok with it, of course. You can say no whenever. And I'll even be careful to sneak in so no one knows. This will all be on your terms, just say the word and I’ll back off.”

You sit quietly, gaze locked with his, mulling over his suggestion. As much as you hated to admit it, something told you that you needed Poe in your life. He was the exact opposite of you in so many ways, but the more you were around him the more you realized the two of you were more alike than  _either_  of you cared to admit. And with the hope in his eyes, you just can’t bring yourself to say no.

“I’d like that, Poe,” you murmur, a shy smile spreading across your face.

Poe exhales, visibly relieved. “Oh, thank the Maker.”

But in an instant, he’s back to being nervous. You can’t help but smile wider… the idea that you make Poe Dameron nervous? Laughable. But the proof was right in front of you, as he carded his hand through his hair and looked everywhere but at you.

When his gaze locks back on you, the nerves are seemingly gone. “I um, I was actually gonna ask if I could see you again tomorrow? We’re leaving on a mission - Jess and Snap and I - the day after, and I never sleep well beforehand so I was hoping we could just sit? Maybe talk about anything not related to all this?” he gestures around himself vaguely, but you know what he means.

Seeing him a bit flustered like this gives you a surge of confidence, and you bump him with your shoulder. “Of course, Poe. I just have one condition.” He looks at you eyebrow raised.

“You have to let me do a full diagnostic on your ship tomorrow. I will not have the Resistance’s best pilot flying a poorly maintained piece of junk and falling out of the sky. Ok, flyboy?” you tease.

Poe grins, and extends a hand for you to shake. “Deal.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry this has taken so long y’all. Writer’s block is a bitch, but Poe is coming back to me. Hope y’all enjoy! <3

After Poe and BB-8 left, sleep just wouldn’t find you. You kept replaying the conversation in your head, searching for any hint that he had been less than sincere. You didn’t know if you were thrilled or terrified when you couldn’t find one.

You finally drifted off at some ungodly hour, and when morning comes it’s too soon. Groaning, you throw your arm out and fumble for your datapad, desperate to silence the blaring alarm. Still half asleep, you stumble from your bed, throw on your coveralls, and tap Bruiser awake. As it powers up, it takes one look at you and whirs in shock.

“Gee, thanks B,” you hiss sarcastically, not exactly in a chipper mood. “‘You look like a pile of bantha shit’ is exactly what I wanted to hear first thing in the morning.”

It beeps indignantly - it was just stating the obvious. Your hair was a mess, and you had huge bags under your eyes.

You sigh. “I know bud. I didn’t sleep well is all.”

Somehow, it managed to look concerned. Did you need to call in sick?

You chuckle, and pat it’s head fondly. “Nah, I’m ok. Lots to do today, we can’t flake out on our pilots. Meet you in the hangar in a half an hour? I want to pop to the ‘fresher and clean up, then grab some breakfast.”

It beeps its assent, and speeds out the door as soon as you open it. You rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as the door shuts behind you. It’s going to be a long day.

* * *

7 hours later, your were finally finished with Jess and Wills’ ships. A few other mechanics had needed your help throughout the day, slowing you down a bit. You didn’t mind though. It was fun helping them figure out how to fix something they thought was irreparable.

As you wolf down the last of a ration bar you had snagged for lunch, you gather your tools and head over to Black One. Bruiser speeds ahead of you excitedly - it was hoping BB-8 would be there.

You wish you were excited, but you’re just a ball of nerves. What if he showed up while you were working? What if he wanted to help? What if he wanted to talk about… well, about anything?  _Oh Maker_ , you thought,  _I am not prepared for this_.

You relax when you near the ship, its pilot and his droid nowhere in sight. Bruiser grumbles dramatically at the absence of the latter, but obliges when you ask it to start running tests on all systems. As you climb into the cockpit, you see a small note wedged into the instrument panel.

> _Hey! Wanted to be here to walk you through some of her quirks today, but got pulled into a strategy meeting. Catch you later? :)  
> _ _\- PD & BB_

You pluck the note from the panel and slip it into your pocket, embarrassed by the wave of relief that washes over you. At least this would give you time to collect yourself before he showed up. Cracking your knuckles you dive in, quickly becoming lost in the work.

There was always something comforting about these ships. T-70s, like any other model, were all fundamentally the same: they were made of the same parts, put together in the same configurations. They all responded to the same commands in the same way.

But beneath all that, each ship was a reflection of the pilot who flew her. Jess’ was aggressively modified, ready for anything you could throw at it. Just like Jess herself, who needed to be in control of every situation, always two steps ahead. Wills’ X-wing, although heavily used, was almost pristine: not a nick or scratch on her. He prided himself on his precise flying skills, and the Wills you’d meet on the ground was no different: everything he did was done well, and done with purpose.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized this was probably why you were able to become friends with Jess and Wills relatively easily: by the time you got around to talking to them, you felt like you already knew them. Maybe it would be the same with Poe.

* * *

After a couple hours, you’re satisfied with your initial assessment and repairs. She was in okay shape, but there had been a slew of small, non-critical maintenance procedures that needed to be taken care of. If those had gone unattended to much longer, there would have been a serious cascade of malfunctions leading to a catastrophic failure.

Climbing back in the cockpit, you power up the systems to do one last check. Oddly enough, the cockpit interior wasn’t flashy like the custom orange and black exterior. And although the standard plastic and leather components were worn, they were extremely well taken care of. You had a couple concerns about the handling of the joystick and the lag of a few systems, but those were pilot preference… you needed to talk to Poe about them.

As you make your way back out of the cockpit, your hand brushes against the main console and a holodeck flicks to life. You furrow your brow.  _That shouldn’t be there_ , you think. 

You reach to turn it off, but the picture catches your eye. It’s Black Squadron, completely drunk by the looks of it. Arms slung around each other, goofy smiles on their faces. And in the middle is Poe, beaming like a proud papa. You giggle to yourself… it’s completely adorable, and not what you expected at all.

Just as you are about to press the switch to power it down, the image changes. It’s smaller and grainier than the first. Definitely much older. It’s a woman holding a small boy, and there’s no questioning who the child is. The mop of curls and laughing eyes give Poe away.

The woman looking down at him must be his mother, and though you can only see her profile you can tell she’s striking. As you study her face, something about her soft smile and the angles of her features seem oddly familiar. You quickly brush off the feeling, shaking your head. Poe must take after her more than his father, that’s all.

Clicking off the holodeck, you carefully make your way down to the hangar floor, smiling to yourself. If this ship really was a reflection of it’s pilot, you and Poe would probably get along just fine.

* * *

You’ve just about finished all the work you can do on Poe’s ship without him there to answer a few questions for you. As you gather the bolts for the last panel you have to fasten back into place, you hear Bruiser let out an excited whir and speed away. “Sure, B, you can go!” You holler after it with a chuckle, not bothering to look up to see who he was rolling to in such a hurry. “Not like I needed any help cleaning up here, anyways!”

The panel was unwieldy, but you could do it yourself… theoretically. As you struggle to hold the panel in place over your head with one hand, wrench in the other, and bolts clamped between your lips, a pair of hand shoots out from nowhere and presses the panel into place.

“Here, let me hold that for you,” Poe interjects, sliding into your line of sight, trademark smile plastered on his face.

You open your mouth to tell him that it’s fine, you’ve got it, but you forgot about the bolts you were holding in your mouth. They tumble to the ground as you let out a squeak and drop to your knees, terrified they’ll roll away. You begin to round them up while staring intently at the floor, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Poe is immediately on the floor next to you, panel set to the side, scooping up the last bolt that was trying to roll away. He holds it out to you with a smile. “Sorry about that,” he says apologetically.

You give him a small, tight lipped smile in return. “Why? Not your fault I’m a mess,” you state as evenly as you can, reaching to pluck it from his hand. As you do, your fingertips brush his, sending a tingle down your spine. Startled, you jerk your hand away.

“I, um…” you stutter, “I just need to get this panel back up and then she should be mostly done. Just had a couple questions to ask you, but that’s it.”

You move to pick up the panel with your free hand, but Poe snatches it up before you can. “Since my droid cost you your helper, I think the least I can do is hold this in place for you,” he insists.

You open your mouth to protest, but the way he’s looking at you causes your words to die on your lips. There’s just a hint of a smile playing on his face, and something you can’t identify in his eyes… Amusement? Contentment?

Whatever it is, you can’t help but break out in a grin when faced with it. “Thanks, Poe. Could you just hold it there?” You gesture to the open space on the underside of the wing.

“I think I can manage that,” he says, fitting the panel into place.

You make quick work of fastening it back into place, your heart rate increasing when you have to brush up against his chest to reach the last one.

When he steps away, he bumps your shoulder. “See? You couldn’t‘ve done it without me, Y/N” he jests, playful smirk on his face.

You roll your eyes at him, a grin playing over your lips. “Oh yes, that was some  _highly_  technical work I couldn’t have possibly handled by myself”, you tease.

He laughs, and it’s deep and melodic. You’re pretty sure your stupid heart skipped a beat at the sound. “Hey! That panel wasn’t exactly light… I deserve some credit.”

Still smiling, you shrug as you bend over and start packing up your tools. “I suppose you do. Thanks, Poe.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N,” he murmurs as you straighten up, facing him as you stand.

You both just stand there for a moment, Poe gazing at you softly with that damned smile of his while you shift awkwardly on your feet, gaze flicking around and landing on anything but his face.

He must realize he’s staring, because from the corner of your eye you see him give a small shake of his head as he turns to his ship and runs his hands over the fuselage. “So, how’s my girl doing?” He questions.

“Oh!” You exclaim, remembering. “Sh-she’s good to go now. Should be just like new. But I um, I have a few questions for you. About how you like it.”

He quirks an eyebrow, not sure if you’re making a joke. A few seconds pass, and you suddenly realize what you said. You’re slightly mortified, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “Oh! Oh kriff. I- I didn’t mean it like that I just… I- I need to know how you like it to handle. Your ship, I mean.”

Poe chuckles softly as you bury your face in your hands, letting out a soft groan as you try and re-compose yourself. You hear Poe step closer, and then he’s pulling your hands from your face and holding them in his own. Your stomach begins to tighten, and when he fixes his gaze on you it starts to flutter uncontrollably.

“How she is right now is exactly how I like her,” he says, nothing but sincerity in his voice. A small voice in the back of your mind screams that he’s not just talking about the ship, but you squash it down quickly. 

You nod quickly, wanting to move on from this conversation as soon as possible. Wanting whatever effect he was having on you to stop. But Poe doesn’t relinquish his grip on your hands as he continues, speaking so softly you question whether he even said anything more. “Some people think it’s a little off. But for me, it’s perfect.”

You didn’t think you could turn any redder, but the increased heat in your cheeks said otherwise. “O- Ok then,” you stammer, desperately trying to get a hold of yourself.  “I haven’t touched it so everything should still be how you like it. Could you, um, could you climb up there and just check for me?” you request, withdrawing your hands from his.  

He nods, but you can’t make sense of the look on his face… it’s bemusement, coupled with something else you can’t place. “Sure, of course,” he says as he makes his way to the ladder leading to the cockpit.

* * *

As he fiddles with the controls, you stay on the floor, continuing to berate yourself for being such an awkward person. You’re so lost in thought you don’t hear Poe hop down, or see one of the Junior Mechanics approach you. When the mechanic calls your name, you jump a little. And when Poe lands next to you with a thud, saying everything is perfect, you let out a yelp and fall to the floor.

“Kriff,” you hiss, heart beating out of your chest. “Are you guys TRYING to kill me?” Both Poe and the mechanic, a nice boy named Kol, look at you sheepishly.

You can’t suppress your smile when you see the looks on their faces… both were obviously upset they had scared you. “It’s fine guys. I scare easy.” You shrug as you ignore their proffered hands, pulling yourself to your feet and dusting off your pants.  

“Poe, glad to hear everything’s ok. She’s ready for your mission tomorrow. Kol, what can I do for you?” You ask, turning away from Poe to face him.

“Um… if it’s not too much trouble, Major, could you help me with this?” He says as he holds out a dismantled trigger mechanism.

“Sure thing, Kol,” You say as you take it, frowning slightly as you hold it up a few inches from your face to inspect it. You see the problem pretty quickly: a couple of the contacts had a layer of buildup on them, but they were hard to see. A few wires had also started to fray slightly, exacerbating the problem.

Looking up at Kol, you smile. “What do you think the problem is?”

“Um…” he stutters, embarrassed. “I’m… I’m not really sure. I’ve been through the manuals and everything looks right. There’s no parts missing anywhere, and there’s no breaks in the components. There’s no shorts in the wiring, either.”

You hold the part out, and motion for him to take it. He does, and a defeated look crosses his face. You suspect he thinks he’ll be reprimanded for missing something obvious, and anger flashes through you at the thought. The fact that that’s the reaction he’s been conditioned to expect from his superiors appals you.

“Look closer, Kol.” You say kindly. “Instead of looking for something that isn’t there, look for something that is.”

He frowns, and brings the part closer to his face. A minute passes before his eyes grow wide. “There’s… there’s buildup on the contacts!” He exclaims.

You nod, encouraging him to continue. “Yes! And that means…?”

He’s visibly excited now, almost bouncing in his boots. “That when the trigger is pulled, the circuit isn’t completed!”

“Exactly!” You proclaim, just as excited as he is. He beams at you, thrilled to have a solution.

“I think you’ve got it from here,” you say, a proud mama look spreading across your face. “But if you need me, I’ll be around. Also, there’s a few wires beginning to fray… it’s not a problem right now, but if you have time you might want to fix it sooner rather than later. That way you don’t have to pull the whole thing out again in a few weeks when they fail.”

He nods, and salutes you, which makes you blush and roll your eyes. “Thank you so much Major Y/L/N! You’re kriffing amazing!”

“Kol!” You call as he runs off. He turns around, eyes wide, but relaxes when he sees you’re still smiling. “It’s just Y/N. No Major. And I’m happy to help, whenever you need it.”

He nods quickly, smile returning to his face, and jogs back to the ship he’s working on. You turn around, still overjoyed that Kol was able to figure it out on his own.

The smile falls from your face as you see Poe is standing a few feet behind you. He’s staring at you, brow furrowed in confusion and jaw dropped in amazement.

* * *

“P-Poe!” you squeak, “I… I thought you left? I’m so sorry, did you need me to take a look at something else?” You panic, thoughts running away from you. He probably thought you were incompetent. Distracted by the other mechanics who needed help. Forgetful and a…

“ _Major_?!?” he practically shouts, interrupting your train of thought. “You’re… you… _Major_?!?” he stammers out, incredulous.

You bite your lip, and fix your gaze firmly on your feet. “Um… yes?” you respond as you rock back and forth on your heels.

You can see the wheels in his brain turning, smoke practically coming out of his ears, as he tries to figure out how he didn’t know this. As anxious as you were a second before, you can’t help but to relax around this adorably confounded Poe. Seeing that he could freeze just made you feel… more normal.

You fight the urge to laugh, but you lose it when his mouth begins opening and closing repeatedly, like he’s trying to speak but his brain won’t cooperate. Quieting down your giggles as best you can, you manage to speak in a somewhat normal voice. “Poe, you look like you’re gonna blow a circuit.”

He’s still floundering, but manages one word: “Explain!”

You smile sheepishly. “I’ve been here for… four years now I think? Started as a Junior Mechanic, but apparently people thought I was really good,” you pause, shrugging. “In a year I was a Lieutenant. Six months later, Captain. Seven months after that, Major.”

He still has an awestruck look on his face, but manages to spit out a few more words. “But… why? I never knew…”

You chuckle, shaking your head your head. “And that’s because I don’t want people to know. My superiors - including the General - kept trying to bump me up, trying give me a team to work under me, give me more responsibilities. They said that I ‘deserved a rank that reflected my skills’, although I still believe they think too highly of me.”

“I tried for a while, I really did. Was overseeing 6 other mechanics, running maintenance for two squadrons. But it…” you drift off, painful memories bubbling to the surface, threatening to come out.  You swallow thickly before continuing. “But some other things happened, and it was all too much.”

“Anyways, I made a deal with them. They could keep slapping whatever rank on me they wanted, but I didn’t want to be called by it. And I didn’t want any subordinates… I’d just be the unofficial ‘mechanic mom’ to all the Junior Mechanics. Help them out when they need it.”

“And?” Poe inquires,

You shake your head at him, a soft smile playing over your lips. “And nothing. Here I am, a Major on official documents only, who’d rather spend all her time fixing ships than overseeing others.” You conclude as you bend down to grab your tool case.

When you stand, Poe is staring at you, a huge dopey smile on his face. “You… you’re something else, Y/N,” He breathes, and something in his tone makes your heart clench.

The feeling immediately shocks you back into a mild panic. You look down, fiddling with the ring around your neck with your free hand. “D-d’you need anything else, Poe?” you ask, hoping against hope that he’ll say no.

As soon as the word crosses his lips you’re gone, too flustered to stay and hear what comes after.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck, guys. It’s been a month since I updated this, and I’m SO sorry. But, I promise it’s gonna start picking up here soon! Big plans for parts 14 & 15, and I’m so excited!

You haphazardly plunk your tool case on your workbench as you rush out of the hangar towards your room. The way Poe had looked at you, the way he called you “something else”… you just couldn’t handle it. It was obvious he thought you were something - someone - you weren’t.

* * *

As soon as you’re out of the hangar, Jess climbs down from her ship and practically skips over to Poe. She hadn’t heard all of what was said, but she had heard enough.

When she reaches him, a smug grin is plastered on her face. “You like her,” she states simply.

Poe nods slowly, making a show of reading some diagnostic results on his datapad. “Y-yeah, ‘course I do. She’s a great mechanic,” he asserts before poking at the pad some more.

He’s past the point of denial… he’s falling for Y/N, and fast. Hell, just thinking about seeing her tonight makes his heart beat out of his chest. But he doesn’t want anyone else to know that… not yet.

With a snort of derision, she rolls her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, Dameron, and you know it. You  _really_ like her.”

Not bothering to look up, Poe winces. She’s right, he’s not denying it. But there’s a shred of reason at the back of his mind, shouting at him that the suddenness of this attraction is wrong. That it makes it unwarranted: an infatuation instead of an actual emotion.  “I barely know her, Jess,” he mumbles, reluctant to share his doubts.

Jess shakes her head, all smugness gone from her face. “That doesn’t matter Poe, and you know it.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but Jess points a threatening finger at him. “Shush, Poe, I’m not done,” she asserts.

“Sometimes, you meet someone and you just know that they’re meant to be in your life somehow. Call it fate, destiny, the force, whatever you want, but it’s true. And I know for a fact if you asked Y/N if she believed in that feeling, she’d say yes. Kriff, I bet your dad would, too.”

Turning on her heel, she waves and heads out of the hangar. “You tell no one, Pava,” he hollers after her, a hint of a threat in his voice. A thumbs up is all he gets in response.

* * *

Straightening the blankets on your bed for the hundredth time, you glance around your room nervously, looking for anything slightly out of place. Not that you thought Poe would care, but if you knew someone was coming to see you your space was going to be tidy, damnit.

Bruiser whirs at you excitedly, asking if BB-8 would be here soon. Apparently, they had had an intense conversation about what diagnostic tests were essential and which weren’t that it was eager to continue.

You chuckle nervously, glad one of you was looking forward to this. “I don’t know, B. Soon, probably.”

It’s not that you weren’t looking forward to seeing Poe again… you were. The prospect of being alone with him intimidated you a little bit, sure, but it didn’t scare you. You didn’t know him well,  it your gut told you that you could trust him.

What scared you was that the last time you felt like this, the last time you were inexplicably drawn to someone you barely knew…

As silly as it may seem, even three years after he died you we’re still hung up on him. You thought you’d given Cade all you had, all the love you could give in this lifetime. So why did whatever this was make you feel the same way those early days with him had?

Shaking your head, you try to shove those feelings down as best you can. Hell, Poe probably didn’t even think of you that way. But the possibility that you could feel things you promised yourself you’d never feel again after Cade died still haunted you.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by a soft knock on your door. Bruiser once again gets there before you, chirping in delight as it greets BB-8. You smile at the two droids as they whiz off without a word of hello.

When you look up, Poe has the same dorky smile on his face as you do. He’s still looking at the droids, affection in his eyes.

You quickly look away, terrified he’ll catch you staring. “Those two are trouble,” you sigh lovingly, directing your gaze back to Bruiser and BB-8.

“Stars, yes,” he chuckles as he steps into your room, door shutting behind him.

“We should probably keep an eye on them, make sure they don’t run off and steal a ship or something,” you quip, nerves easily forgotten when faced with your adorable droid-child.

“Don’t give them ideas…” Poe says, and you can’t help but giggle at the serious look on his face.

He breaks out in a smile before continuing. “No, really, BB-8 has… um, he’s done that before.  _Without_  a partner in crime.”

Your gaze flicks from Poe to BB-8 repeatedly, disbelief on your face. Poe chuckles at your reaction. “You’re gonna have to elaborate on that for me sometime.”

Poe nods his head, grin falling from his face. “Yeah, but maybe not tonight, if that’s ok?”

You nod quickly, feeling heat creep into your cheeks. You’re embarrassed for asking.

Nudging your shoulder, he makes his way to your bed and plops down on the floor, leaning against it. You feel awkward just standing, so you hop up into your hammock. As you’re getting situated so you can still see Poe, he calls out.

“Think fast!”

Looking up, you see the object flying towards your head a fraction of a second too late. Squeaking, you try to duck, but it hits you square in the forehead. It’s not a hard hit, but it’s just hard enough to knock you off balance. You flail your arms, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. You’re going down. Accepting your fate, you quickly tuck your arms and legs in… after a lifetime of being clumsy, you’ve learned how to take a fall.

You land on your side with a thud and a groan. Despite the pain, you wheeze with laughter when you see the look on Poe’s face. The man is absolutely mortified, looking down at you while his arms are reaching out to where you were in the hammock a few moments before. Before he can ask if you’re ok and offer you a hand, Bruiser is shoving past him, demanding to know what happened. Were you ok? Did you need to go to the medbay? Were you lying to it just so it would leave you alone? What happened?

“Calm down, B,” you hum, rolling onto your back. “I’m fine. Poe tossed me something and I didn’t see it, so it hit me and I lost my balance. No big deal.”

Bruiser jerks back sharply while BB-8 lets out an indignant strings of beeps from the corner. Both of them roll over to Poe, beeping and whirring at him aggressively. You’re only getting bits and pieces, but it sounds like Bruiser is angry at him for making you fall. Meanwhile, BB-8 is reprimanding him for embarrassing it in front of Brusier and “the pretty new mechanic”. Poe nimbly hops backward across your small room as both droids advance on him, panic on his face as he shouts frantic apologies to both you, BB-8, and Bruiser. He finally climbs up on your bed to evade a zap from an arm that had popped out from BB-8 and was buzzing with electricity. He’s breathing heavily, arms outstretched in a show of peace.

You manage to stop laughing long enough to haul yourself to your feet, and slip in between Poe and the droids. “Guys, I’m ok! leave the poor man alone! It was an accident.”

Bruiser spits out a few choice words (something about Poe needing to watch his back if he hurts you again) before both of them roll back to the corner they were chatting in. You turn back to Poe, but a bump at your shin and a quiet chirp makes you look down. BB-8 is nudging you gently, holding out a fruit in a mechanical arm.

“Oooh, Kavasa fruit!” you squeal in delight, taking the fruit from the droid with a quick thank you. Fruit in hand, you plop down on the bed next to Poe. He has one in his hand as well, but it’s quickly set to the side as he turns to face you. You can tell he’s beating himself up about what just happened, guilt oozing off of him.

“Y/N, I am so so sorry! I didn’t mean for that to happen, I swear. Are you ok? I can take you down to the medbay, or see if they could send someone here-”

“Poe, it’s fine.  _I’m_  fine. I’ve taken worse tumbles,” you cut him off, a small smile flickering over your face as you fidget with the fruit in your hands.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Are you sure you’re ok, though?”

“Poe Dameron, if you ask me that one more time I’m going to hit  _you_  in the head with a piece of fruit,” you tease.

Poe laughs quietly, hands up in defeat. “Ok, ok”.

The way he’s looking at you catches you off guard, and you quickly return your gaze to the fruit in your hands. “Thanks for the fruit,” you say quietly. “I love fresh stuff… I haven’t had any in such a long time.”

You can hear the smile in his voice, how happy he is that you like it. “I overheard Jess saying you loved fresh fruit… I grabbed this at a market on my last mission. I was going to save them all for myself, but you’re worth sharing with.”

You can feel another blush creeping up your cheeks…  _why did he have to go and say shit like that?_

Fortunately, he doesn’t let the silence linger, launching into a funny story about how he fell out of his mother’s A-wing when he was a child. You can’t help but laugh along at the mental image of a little boy with twigs sticking out of his unruly mop of curls from the bush he landed in running to his dad to help make sure he didn’t get in trouble.

The rest of the evening passes, Poe reminiscing about his childhood and all the shenanigans he got into on Yavin IV. Turns out child Poe was just as headstrong and adventurous as his adult counterpart. Somehow, that didn’t surprise you. What did was his infectious laugh, and how you both frequently ended up in stitches at the end of a story. It was the happiest - and the most relaxed - you’d felt in a long, long time.

You had both drifted off into silence without realizing it when Poe finally spoke up again. “So, you’re a Major, right?”

You nod slowly, not sure where he could be going with this. Kol had made that abundantly clear in the hangar earlier.

“Then why don’t you have a bunk with the rest of the officers? I mean it’s a whole wing, private refreshers, bigger rooms for all your blueprints and stuff.”

You shrug. “I dunno. It’s closer to the hangar here. Less distance for me to trip and fall down on my way to work.”

He laughs, a rich, full laugh you’ve heard a dozen times tonight, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. Stupid thing.

Forcing a small smile, you continue. “No, but seriously. I like being close by in case I’m needed. And the sounds are soothing. The smells too. Just makes it feel more like home, I guess.”

A thought dawns on you, and you look up at Poe with playful suspicion. “Speaking of my bunk, how did you know where it was?”

Poe bites his lip, wincing. “I um… I may have seen you go in after I was talking with Jess in the hangar. Made a mental note y'know… just in case?”

You snort, rolling your eyes as you lean back on the bed. “Not creepy at all, Dameron,” you hum, a grin on your face as you hear Poe chuckle, relieved you weren’t actually mad.

“Tell me more about your mom,” you whisper as you sink into your pillows, eager to hear more about the woman whose face seemed so familiar, who had featured so prominently in the stories you’d already heard tonight.

You can hear the love in Poe’s voice as he begins telling you about her, a rebellion pilot with a take no shit attitude that made him into the man he was today. You close your eyes, lost in the sound of his voice, and slowly drift off to sleep.


End file.
